


Until Our Time Runs Out

by PlanetarySTOP



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: AND GAY, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Attempted Rape, Depression, Eventual Smut, Everyone is hot, Fluff, Humor, Loss, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, and sassy, but not until much later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-08 04:39:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3195620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlanetarySTOP/pseuds/PlanetarySTOP
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank Iero meets an eccentric, dark hair atrocity by the name of Gerard Way during his way-too-early Physics class. Will they eventually have hot sex or will they eventually have hot sex? Idk mysterious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Is Physics Really A Course Requirement?

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think Bronxly College actually exists... Whatever. Also, I have no idea if Physics is actually a course requirement (and neither do any of these characters) so if I'm completely wrong, cut me some slack.

Frank Iero's ear buds were slipping out of his ears, his too-loud music fading from his senses as the white cord caught on his elbow and pulled his ear buds away in one swift yank. The cord that enabled Frank's musical addiction fell away, swinging down and tangling around his ankles as he hurried along the asphalt on his way to class. Grumbling, he reached down to snatch them up before he could step on them, looping them around his neck to prevent further incident. Reaching into the back pocket of his jeans, Frank pulled out his phone, turning off his music and checking the time as he did so.

It was 6:48 in the morning and it was already warm outside. The sun was barely up, hovering as a lazy orb close to the horizon, lighting the Bronxly College Campus in an orangey-yellow light. Despite the persistent early morning breeze, there was no denying how hot it was going to be later in the day. Frank squinted across the campus grounds, trying to spot the building where his class was. He was still wondering what exactly possessed him to sign up for a 7am class across campus, a good ten minutes away from his dorm in Westside Housing. But, then again, it was the only open Physics class left and though he wanted to major in music, guess who needed to take it to fill the course requirement?

Frank resisted the urge to pull out the campus map, determined not to be the freshman idiot who couldn’t find any of his classes on the first day. Back in high school, there were kids who would shuffle through the halls with their noses shoved deep into the school map for a good two weeks at the start of the school year. Those were the kids that were laughed at and teased for their inability to remember where their classes were. Frank was not going to look at his map, so what if he got lost.

Checking the time again, Frank picked up his pace, his beat-up Chucks slapping against the asphalt path through the campus. The building was one of those huge, stereotypical college buildings, with the red brickwork and ivy climbing up the sides. Large golden letters spelled out the name of the building, proclaiming that this was Berkling Hall. There was one of those shiny wooden doors at the front, colossal in side and complete with a red paint job that made the whole thing exceedingly bright and hurt Frank’s eyes as he looked at it. Making his way over to the door, there was a moment of panic as he couldn’t figure out how to open it, not seeing any push or pull signs to lend a hand. He still hadn’t lived down the whole middle school fiasco yet where he tried to push a pull door and ended up covered in coffee, knocking down some tiny 7th grader and sending a teacher flying. That was a moment he wasn’t eager to relive. With a wild guess, Frank went to gingerly push the door open. It didn’t move. Go figure. Sighing, he pulled and the door swung out and open, letting him inside. Cool air washed over him and the beauty of air conditioning was revealed in all its glory. The hall was brightly lit, with warm lights reflecting off the tiled floor and coming in through the east-facing windows. There was a large clock on the wall across from the door, letting the world know that Frank had a mere seven minutes to find the right room. He made his way across the ground floor, staring around at walls and taking in all the carved marble and glass windows. You could always tell which colleges had way too much time and money on their hands. Bronxly was obviously one of the wealthier colleges, if the ridiculous amount of carvings in the ceiling and walls were anything to judge by. Crossing the room, Frank moved over to the stairs, and thanking his lucky stars that there was a sign this time, pushed the door open and climbed up two flights of stairs. There was a musky smell inside the stairwell and the blue painted railing was peeling. There was rust flaking off the stairs and the whole thing seemed to be falling apart. So, apparently Bronxly didn’t really care about cleanliness. Good to know. Probably would have been better to know before Frank decided to attend. Apparently the campus tours only went along the better portions of the school.

Coming out of the stairwell, the sound of voices swelled. About halfway down the hall was an open door. Frank walked towards it, glancing down the rest of the hall as he did so. It seemed to stretch on and on, reminding him of the hallway in The Shining, only with better lighting and minus two creepy twin sisters at the end of the hall. Inside the room was what looked like a stereotypical lecture hall, with the desks elevated above the main teaching floor. High windows allowed the sunlight to spill in and a few were cracked open for some reason, despite the east coast humidity. Walking up the stairs along the side of the room, Frank came to the first free desk he could find and sat down. He was seated in the third row on the edge of the aisle, with a few empty desks next to him and one behind him. Glancing around from his seat, Frank silently evaluated all of the students already in the room, whether they were at desks or hanging out around the front of the room. Up front, there was a group of girls with skirts on that were so short, they would have gotten kicked out of Frank’s high school. A groups of kids was hanging out in the back of the room, eyeing anyone who looked at them too long as if the kid who was dumb enough to look at them too long was fresh meat and they were some sort of hungry carnivore. There were a couple of freshmen just sitting at their desks like Frank was, simply waiting around for class to start. Frank paid everyone very little attention after he had glanced at everyone. He wasn’t here to make friends, just to learn. Didn’t matter what is mother said, college wasn’t going to be “a blast” and he didn’t want to socialize with people. Best-case scenario, they all left him alone. Worst, they found out he was gay and people would start judging again.

Shrugging off his backpack, Frank unwound his ear buds from around his neck and shoved them deep in his ears, hitting the play button on his phone and letting the sound of Iron Maiden rush into his ears. Slouching low in his seat, Frank’s eyes slid shut as he reveled in the sound of guitar and drumbeats thumping into his ears.

It was peaceful, then it wasn’t. First, there was an awkward tap on his shoulder, which he ignored. Then, there was a grumble of exasperation that was lost on Frank, followed by the pain of someone kicking him in the shins as they squeezed past him into a desk nearby. Frank sat up and opened his eyes to see some windswept jerk with hazel eyes and black hair that curled lightly around his ears and should have been too long but somehow managed to be pulled off as endearing sit down in the desk next to him with a thump. He had an enormous cup of coffee in his hand and judging by the way he was carrying it, it was nearly empty. The guy stretched and turned his head to grin at Frank with a crooked smile spread across his face. Frank raised an eyebrow at the strangely energetic guy but said nothing, only removed one ear bud. There was no apology for Frank’s bashed shin though. The guy simply drained the cup of coffee he was carrying and threw it across the room to land perfectly in the trashcan. Showoff. He then pulled a second, equally large cup seemingly out of nowhere and then conjured up a can of RedBull from the same nowhere. He turned his head and looked Frank straight in the eye.

“I am going to die.”

And with that, the black haired atrocity poured the entire RedBull into his new coffee and proceeded to drink the entire thing.

Frank’s jaw dropped.

“Nothing like ridiculous amounts of caffeine and sugar to wake you up in the morning.” The guy said absentmindedly, ignoring Frank’s open-mouthed stare. He pulled a laptop out of his black messenger bag and set it on the desk in from of him. The silver device was covered in stickers and sharpie marker, mostly band names and smiley faces but the occasional cartoon doodle and a few song lyrics. The kid proceeded to prop his feet up on the back of the chair in front of him, ignoring the scowl thrown at him from the chair’s owner.

“Shut your mouth, you look stupid,” the black haired guy said without a glance in Frank’s direction. He clamped his jaw shut and the guy rolled his eyes.

“Now you look constipated.”

“Well, sorry I can’t please you.” Frank said with as much sarcasm as he could manage. This made the other boy grin again. He had a strange smile where one side of his mouth went up higher than the other. It looked completely natural and not forced in any way, like Frank had tried to do back in his sixth grade yearbook photo.

“And he speaks!” the guy exclaimed, black hair flipping into his eyes as he turned his head to look at Frank. He pushed it back behind his ears impatiently only to have it fall back into his face and make him look even more disheveled than before. 

“Gerard" he said. Frank was momentarily confused (who the hell was Gerard?) until he realized that the guy - Gerard - was introducing himself.

“Oh, uh, Frank.”

“Welcome to 7am hell Frank.”

“Uh, thanks?” Frank replied, squinting in confusion at the guy. Gerard. Whatever.

"So, what’s prompted you to take Physics at this ungodly hour?” Gerard asked. Frank opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by the arrival of the teacher, some old professor who was wearing a sweater vest and couldn’t have been younger than 70.

“Hello,” came the wheezy voice from the front of the room. “I am Mr. Fitzer and welcome to An Introduction to Physics.” The professor walked across the front of the room and surveyed the students before him.

“First off, I want everyone to know that the standard Physics textbook will be necessary for you to purchase if you wish to pass my class. The name is here up on the board...” Here, Mr. Fitzer turned around to look at the board and noticed that it was blank. “Odd, I could have sworn I wrote it down...” he mumbled to himself. Picking up a piece of chalk, Mr. Fitzer proceeded to write out the title of the book on the board with a piece of chalk.

“Intro to Physics; Volume 1,” he wheezed, “Be sure to get the newest edition.” He put down the chalk and turned back to face the class, peering at them all over the rim of his glasses. “I think you’ll find the book is quite costly and a rather popular choice so please buy them quickly, preferably before next week.”

“Right, costly....” Frank muttered with grimace. “What are college textbooks made of, gold?” He scrawled the name of the book across his hand with his pen and returned his attention to the teacher. Mr. Fitzer was talking again, droning on about where to get the book and how to buy it or something. Honestly, Frank didn’t really care. He was still kicking himself for signing up for a class this early.

Someone poked Frank in the side. Hard. Turning his head to glare at Gerard, he swatted the dark haired man's hand away from his ribs. "Asshole." Frank looked away, scowling. Couldn't the idiot see he was trying to pay attention? Actually, he really wasn't, but that didn't matter.

"Ow!" Frank yelped and jumped as his ribs were assaulted again, much harder this time. "What?" He hissed, twisting in his seat to look at Gerard, who was innocently staring back at Frank and was fucking twirling a piece of hair around his fingers.

"Can I share a textbook with you?"

"Can you- What?" Frank spluttered. 

"Damn, you're slow. Can I share a textbook with you?" Gerard said slowly, letting go of his hair and leaning closer to Frank. He was over enunciating each word as if Frank was a kindergartener who was being taught a new phrase.

"I know what you said, you idiot. I meant, why the hell would you want to share a textbook with me?"

"Those things are fucking expensive and I'd rather not have to buy one all on my own."

"Uh, sure, I guess." Frank said hesitantly.

"Gimme a definite answer. I'm not gonna split a book with an indecisive half-assed sharer." Gerard snapped.

Fine, I'll share the fucking textbook with you, okay? Now let me learn something!" Frank hissed, whipping away from Gerard and facing forward again, but not before catching the dark haired man's crooked grin.


	2. Cardboard Eggs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a bunch of comments asking for me to continue, so here's the second chapter.

The Physics class seemed to last forever. Mr. Fitzer was perpetually flustered, mumbling and stuttering and overall doing a really crappy job of teaching. Honestly, Frank learned more from Gerard, who seemed to be more knowledgeable than the whole class combined. He knew every answer to Mr. Fitzer's questions and didn't hesitate to whisper them into Frank's ear every chance he got. By the end of the lesson, the only thing Frank had really learned was that Gerard smelt like coffee and mint and oranges and that his breath was really warm against Frank's ear. 

When the class finally ended, Frank stood up, shoved all his stuff into his bag and slung it over his shoulder, sidling out of the row and down the stairs. He was halfway out the door when he heard Mr. Fitzer say "The seats you were in today will be your seats for the rest of this course. I want to learn everyone's name and that will not happen if you keep moving around."

Great. Now he got to listen to Gerard whispering to him every morning. Not that it was necessarily a bad thing, Gerard seemed nice enough, but he was really distracting. 

Frank was out of the building and was making his way across campus in under five minutes. He made his way over to the dining hall across the campus green. At least, that's where he thought it was. Honestly, he was so hungry he didn't care anymore. All he had eaten that morning was half of a blueberry pop tart. 

"Frankie!" a voice called. Frank groaned. He would recognize that voice anywhere. He had just spent the better part of an hour listening to it whisper to him. Turning around slowly, Frank saw Gerard running across the grass towards him, black messenger bag swinging wildly from one shoulder. 

Frank waited until Gerard was next to him before starting to walk again. 

"Where you headed?" Gerard asked breathlessly. He swiped at his too long hair and tried to tuck the front pieces behind his ears, failing as the pieces fell free and swing back into his eyes. He peered down at Frank. Gerard may have been three inches taller but he had more than double Frank's energy. 

"Dining hall," Frank said distractedly, glancing up at Gerard and then away, looking around and trying to determine if the building he was headed for was actually a dining hall. 

Gerard frowned. "Isn't that over there?" he said, gesturing off to the left. Frank turned his head that way and saw that Gerard was right, that was the dining hall. He corrected his course and headed in that direction. Gerard skidded to a halt and swerved to catch back up with Frank. 

“Damn, for someone so short, you do walk fast.” Gerard muttered under his breath. 

Frank scowled.

“I may be short but I can still kick your ass.”

“Touché” Gerard grinned and looked over at Frank, neary walking into a statue of some dumb founder of something or other. Frank stifled a laugh. “Slow the fuck down, you're gonna kill me” Gerard complained, giving Frank a small shove with his shoulder and almost falling as he slipped on the grass, which was slightly damp from the early morning sprinklers.

“No can do.” Frank replied cheerily.

"Hungry?" Gerard asked as he tripped over his sneakers in his attempt to regain his balance. 

"Starving," Frank replied with a slight smile. 

"I could probably go for another coffee," Gerard mused. 

"Haven't you had like, two huge cups already?" Frank raised an eyebrow at Gerard. 

"That you know of. I think I had about three or four already." Gerard frowned slightly, nose scrunching up in concentration. "Hmmm," he murmured, scrunching up his nose even further. Frank grinned at his ridiculous expression. 

Gerard was saved from his coffee contemplation by someone calling him name. Both he and Frank looked up to see a short blond hurrying across the grass towards them. And when Frank said short, he means shorter than him, so they guy had to be like four feet tall.

"Patrick," Gerard smiled as he called the guy over with a shout.

"Frankie, this is Patrick. He's also my roommate and he had the worst taste in music ever. Trick, this is Frank. I've been calling him Frankie though and he hasn't hit me so you can call him Frankie too."

Frank rolled his eyes at Gerard. “Yet,” he corrected. “I could still do it.”

“Ah, but it may be a bit of a stretch for you to reach all the way up here.” Gerard replied cheekily.

“Shut up, you fucker.”

Patrick raised an eyebrow. “Making friends very quickly, I see.” he gave Gerard what could only be described as a shit-eating grin. “Gonna prove me right?”

“Huh?” Gerard asked, seemingly confused for a moment. Apparently he understood what Patrick meant though because he opened his mouth and gave a little “Oh,” of shock. 

“What was it you said earlier?” Patrick smirked. “The game is on, right?”  
Gerard turned slightly pink. “And, you’re blushing.” Patrick crowed and Gerard went even pinker, borderline red. 

“Shut up fuckhead. It’s just really warm out. It’s the sun, I’m just getting kinda warm.” Gerard snapped. Patrick raised an eyebrow but said nothing, letting Gerard flounder in his own embarrassment.

Frank frowned. He was utterly lost. The conversation between the two roommates was making next to no sense to him. The game is on? What fucking game? Unless it was some mental game, Frank was completely in the dark. However, he would put it past these two strange people to be playing mind games with each other; they were certainly dedicated to the task of confusing people.

“Um, if you’re done…” Frank said slowly. “Gerard, you gonna come?”

“Uh, yeah.” Gerard looked away from Patrick, who was still grinning like an idiot. “Dining hall. Yep, I’m coming.”

Patrick snorted.

Gerard gaped at him and smacked him with his messanger bag, making Patrick laugh. Cursing under his breath, Gerard kept swinging at the other boy, who darted away, out of Gerard’s reach.

“See you later, Gee.” He called as he left. “Have fun with Frankie.” And with that, Patrick took off across the green, still laughing.

Gerard was red in the face and panting. He had managed to ruffle his hair more than humanly possible and now it was sticking up at odd angles on his head. “I’m gonna kill him.” he muttered, glaring at Patrick’s retreating figure.

“Oh, I don’t know, I sorta liked him.” Frank stated. “He’s… uh…” he trailed off, not quite sure how to describe Patrick.

“An ass?” Gerard offered.

“Not exactly what I was going to say, but whatever floats your boat.”

\------------------------------------------------------

Taking his student ID from the way-too-happy woman at the dining hall entrance, Frank wandered in, making his way over to the breakfast bar. There were about ten different types of eggs there; fried, scrambled, sunny-side up, hard boiled, some weird egg-and-cheese concoction that may have been edible at one time but the once-gooey cheese had solidified into these gross chunks that glued together the fluffy eggs. You name it, the eggs were there. Next to the egg display was some crushed looking grapes and closer to the door was a platter of bacon and mini sausages sitting in some sort of sticky syrupy soup (it could have been their natural juices for all Frank knew, either way it was disgusting) and those really cheap sausage patties that they used to serve on breakfast-for-lunch days in the elementary school cafeteria. 

Frank made a face. No meat for this vegetarian. He bypassed the bacon and headed over to the egg buffet, grabbing a plate and scooping a pile of the least soggy-looking eggs onto it. Grabbing a slice of toast and an apple, he made his way over to the tables and found Gerard was already sitting at one, with, surprise surprise, another cup of coffee. Gerard looked up from his drink and saw Frank, gesturing to him with one finger to come over to the table. Frank walked over and plopped down into the seat across from Gerard. 

The coffee addict leaned in, looked directly as Frank. “I made you come with one finger.” he said monotonously, staring at Frank. His eye contact lasted a good ten seconds, making Frank squirm under his gaze. Then Gerard pushed back and laughed, a really stupid but adorable high-pitched giggle thing that made Frank’s stomach clench.

“Your fucking face,” Gerard got out between laughs. “You were so fucking embarrassed.”

“Shut up.” Frank complained, shifting in his seat. “You just caught me off guard.”

“Dude, you looked like someone had caught you jerking off or something. You were fucking mortified.”

“No one says mortified anymore, Gerard.”

“Well I do, so suck it up.” Gerard snarked back.

“Are you always like this?”

“Like what?” Gerard cocked his head to the side, like a puppy. 

“I don’t know…. this” Frank gestured to Gerard’s enormous cup of coffee, his wild hair, his ratty black messenger bag that was flung across the table and had what looked like a sketchpad and a shit ton of pencils and a few paintbrushes spilling out of it.

“A mess?” Gerard said bluntly. “Nah, my brother would probably say that I’m an eccentric idiot with hair that needs to be washed more and too much time on his hands.”

“Are you?” Frank inquired.

“Am I what?”

“An eccentric idiot who could do with a shower and has too much time on his hands.”

“No one said anything about showers, just that my hair was apparently too much of a mess to be socially acceptable.” Gerard corrected, taking a gulp of his coffee. 

Frank ate a forkful of eggs. They tasted like cardboard. He swallowed and ate another mouthful. They weren’t any better on the second bite. 

"You're avoiding the question." Frank stated, choking down the mouthful of eggs. 

"Ah, but where's the fun in straightforward answers?" Gerard grinned. "Yeah, Mikey is probably right, but I refuse to aknowledge that I am an idiot."

"Mikey is your brother, right?"

"Yeah." Gerard took another sip of his coffee. "He's a couple of years younger than me. He wants to go to Bronxly too, so we'll see how that turns out..." He trailed off, thinking. Turning to Frank, Gerard smirked. "Anything you have to share about yourself?" 

"Well, I'm short enough to be picked on but not short enough to be unable to kick someone's ass, I like dogs, I don't like racism or injustice and I have no siblings, little brothers or otherwise." 

"Congratulations." Gerard mock applauded him. "You must be very proud." 

Frank rolled his eyes. "Gee, I'm starting to get the impression that your brother was right about the idiot thing."

Gerard gasped in mock horror. "Frankie, you do know where to hit where it hurts. I don't think I can carry on any longer. Whatever shall I do?" He put the back of his hand to his forehead and faked fainting. Frank swatted him on the arm.

"Stop being so over dramatic! Jesus!" He exclaimed.

Gerard straightened. "Gerard will do just fine, no need to call me Jesus."

"Asshole." 

"Gee works too." Gerard retaliated, grin growing in size until it was stretched crookedly across his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought; I'm a comment whore.


	3. Meet The Roommate (Oops, They're Kissing)

"Favorite color?"

"Red"

"Food?"

"If it's edible, I'll eat it. Excluding meat though."

"You're a vegetarian?"

"Mmmhhmm."

"Superhero?"

"Batman, duh."

Gerard grinned at Frank's eye roll. He had been asking Frank questions all through their late breakfast. Frank was making his way through his soggy eggs, munching and replying as best as he could to everything Gerard said. The questions just kept coming; for every answer Frank gave, Gerard had two more for him to answer. 

Gerard picked up Frank's apple from the napkin it was sitting on. He examined it closely. Frank watched like a hawk, staring at his face as he contemplated the piece of fruit. 

"You gonna eat this?" Gerard asked, glancing at Frank, who hastily shook his head and looked back down as his slowly vanishing food. 

Gerard took a bite of the apple and chewed, staring off into space. Frank raised an eyebrow at him. 

"Question time is over?"

"For now..." Gerard mused. "What time is your next class?" He inquired, taking another bite of the apple.

“In about- FUCK!” Frank yelped, jumping up. 

“Cool, didn’t see that one on the course guidebook.” Gerard commented, watching Frank scramble to his feet and collect his backpack. 

“I gotta go, I have about five minutes to run across the campus.” Frank got out as he scrambled to get his feet beneath him and working properly to get him out of the dining hall. 

“Here, I’ll get rid of your food.” Gerard said, gesturing to the discarded eggs. Frank smiled gratefully at him. “Oh, and one more thing,” Gerard grabbed Frank’s hand and put something in it. “Now run, Forrest, run.“ 

Gerard grinned and gave Frank a light shove in the direction of the exit. Frank left, scurrying between tables and around people holding trays of food in his quest to make it to his next class. 

Seven minutes later, Frank slid into his writing class, yet another one he didn’t really want to take. Panting, he went to pull out his laptop and realized that whatever Gerard had shoved into his hand was still there. It was a piece of paper, slightly damp and crumpled; Frank had been clenching it in his hand since he had left the dining hall. As the professor started talking, Frank discreetly smoothed out the crumpled scrap and looked at it. On one corner was a doodle of a zombie-Frank, making Frank smile. Across the center was a set of numbers. Seven numbers. A phone number. More specifically, Gerard’s number. 

\------------------------------------------------------

“Writing class sucks and I hate it with a burning passion.” Frank called into his dorm room. “The dumb music history class was better than that.” Frank complained, surveying the door into his room. His roommate had better be in there; he had left the door open again. 

Frank shouldered open the slightly ajar door, rolling his eyes at the name cards that the resident assistants had put there. There was a dolphin with the name Brendon on its stomach and a fat fish with Frank’s name on its side. Frank walked into the dorm room and turned around and shut the door behind him with a kick. Turning back around he looked around for his roommate and-

“Holy fucking hell” Frank said, taking a step back so his back hit the door. 

Brendon looked up from sucking on the neck of the taller boy he had pinned against the far wall. “Hey Frank,” He said, the returned his attention to the other guy.

“Brendon!” Frank yelled.

“Whaaaat?” Brendon whined, looking back at Frank and pushing his flop of hair out of his eyes. “Little busy here.”

“You are mauling someone in our room.” Frank stated. “With the door was open.”

“You weren’t supposed to be back until 3:30! You said 3:30!”

“Its 4:03.” Frank said, looking at the clock by his bed.

“Look at that...” Brendon mused. “Time flies when you’re having fun. This is Ryan by the way. He’s a sophomore.”

“Hi,” Ryan said, giving a little wave. “Sorry…?” he gave a small smile.

“Its fine, really. You just surprised me.” Frank sighed. “I’m probably going to head out again in a bit so can you maybe…”

Brendon grinned sheepishly and stepped away from Ryan, letting the older boy pull himself off the wall and stand up straight.

Frank pulled out his phone and the small piece of paper he had put in his pocket with it. Glancing at the paper, he contemplated the set of digits on it. He opened up the phone and went into his contacts, hitting ‘add new’ and typing him Gerard’s number. Realizing he didn’t know Gerard’s last name, he saved it simply as Gerard and put down the paper. Brendon sauntered over and scooped it up, looking at the numbers and raising an eyebrow.

“Did our little Frankie make a friend?” he teased, looking at the numbers. 

“Brendon,” Frank warned.

“The zombie is cute too.” Brendon added. 

“Oooh, I like it.” Ryan added, peeking at the drawing over Brendon’s shoulder. “Whose number is it?”

“His name is Gerard.” Frank muttered.

“Is he pretty?”

“Fucking hell, Brendon.”

“Innocent question.”

“Nothing with you is ever innocent.” Frank grumbled. 

“You’re avoiding the question. Is he pretty? Or cute? Or maybe he’s super manly and macho-macho, I dunno what you’re into.”

Frank snorted. “Definitely not macho-macho, as you put it.”

“Is he one of those super ugly people who you only got the number of because you felt bad?”

“No! He’s not super ugly, he’s nice and we ate breakfast together.” Frank said defensively.

Brendon grinned. “So, he’s pretty.”

“Shut up.”

“And you had breakfast together!” Brendon beamed at him, the looked at Ryan, who had been watching the scene with a bemused expression on his face. “Baby Frank just went on his first date.”

“Why do I put up with you?”

“Because when we met at orientation, you were so infatuated with me that you couldn’t resist my offer of being my roommate.”

“You and I remember orientation very differently.” Frank shot back. “I seem to remember being covered in your lunch and you profusely apologizing and generally being an annoying little shit.”

“You’re a full foot shorter than me, I’m not the little one here” Brendon commented. Ryan gave a small laugh and Frank glared up at both of them. Okay, wow, Ryan was tall and Brendon was only about two inches shorter than him. 

“And you’ve once again reverted to making short jokes at my expense.”

“You secretly love it.”

“For some reason, I don’t think I do.” Frank said, scrunching up his face in mock contemplation. Ryan seized this opportunity to reach around Frank and scoop up his phone, tossing it to Brendon, who dialed Gerard’s number and hit send.

“You fucker, give me that!”

“Jump for it.” Brendon waved a hand at Frank, who had stood up and was swiping at his phone in Brendon’s hand. “Oooh, it’s ringing.”

“Give it-” Frank hissed, shoving Brendon and reaching for the phone again. Brendon simply stumbled and tossed the phone to Ryan, who caught it and held it up to his ear.

“Hello?” Frank heard the tinny sounding voice come out of the phone; Gerard had answered. 

“Fuck!” Frank screeched. “Give!” 

“Ask nicely Frankie, Ryan chided. “He sounds hot.” He commented to Brendon, who was doubled over laughing. “Here,” he tossed the phone to Brendon, who caught it. 

“Hello there. Gerard, is it?” He said in what sounded like an extremely fake British accent.

“Who is this?” Gerard’s voice asked, just barely loud enough for Frank to hear.

“Brendon, if you don’t give me my phone, I will cut off all of your hair while you’re sleeping and then castrate you.” Frank barked.

“Is that Frank?” Gerard’s voice asked. Brendon grimaced. 

“Unfortunately yes it is, and he just threatened to cut off my balls.” Brendon answered. He then chucked the phone at Frank, who barely caught it. Glaring at Brendon, he raised the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” He said into the small device. “Gerard?”

A choking noise was coming from the other end of the line. “Gerard?” Frank asked again, worried. “You okay?”

“Oh, god, no.” Gerard got out and Frank realized he was laughing.

“You fuckhead, I was just taken advantage of my my roommate and his not-so-secret boyfriend and you’re laughing!?” Frank exclaimed.

Brendon and Ryan smirked and high-fived each other. Frank rolled his eyes. “Gimme a second, he told Gerard, who was still cackling. Covering the receiver, he looked pointedly at the two boys in the room with him. 

“I’m going out,” he told them. “Don’t wait up and for the love of god, don’t be fucking when I come back.”

He turned his attention back to the phone and walked out of the room. “Okay, I’m back.” he stated. “Are you done laughing?”

“No,” Gerard replied. “I’m never going to be done laughing at that. You were going to castrate him, you were so pissed. I’m sorry, but that’s hilarious.”

“No, you’re not sorry.” Frank retorted, walking out of his dorm and starting down the street.

“Nah, I’m not.” Gerard agreed.

“I wasn’t joking though.” Frank said absentmindedly. 

“About what?”

“Cutting off Brendon’s balls. I wasn’t joking. I would have done it at midnight or something when he was sleeping so he would wake up and realize that they were gone and I could listen to him die from crying and laughing at me.”

“Well, you’re one sadistic fuck.”

“No, I’m just one of the more imaginative people in this world.”

Gerard snorted, laughing again. Frank kept walking, listening to Gerard giggle occasionally. He would get his laughter under control, then Frank would start to say something or Gerard would apparently think of Frank castrating Brendon in the dead of night or something equally strange and he would laugh again.  
It took about ten minutes but eventually Gerard got himself under control. There was silence at the other end, then, “What are you doing right now?”

“Going for a walk. I don’t especially want to sit around in my room and watch Brendon and Ryan play tonsil-tennis.”

“And thank you for the mental image, really appreciated that.” Gerard said. Frank could practically hear the cringe in his voice. 

“What are you up to, then? Better than walking, I’d imagine.”

“I’m in the bathroom across the hall from my art class.”

“Gerard!”

“What? You called. I had to answer.”

“Technically, I didn’t call, Brendon did.”

“Either way, it was more entertaining than sitting in the classroom.” Gerard said. “Though I should probably go back in soon before they send someone to look for me.”

“They’re probably worried that you’ve drowned or something.”

“I don’t like water.” Gerard said flatly.

“Even more the reason for you to drown in a toilet.”

“You’re just a little ball of sunshine this evening.

“It’s 4:45 Gerard. That is not what I would call the evening.” Frank sighed in mock exasperation. 

He walked a bit more, before turning around and heading back to the dorms. “You should probably go back to class Gerard.”

“Yeah, probably.” Gerard said sadly. “I have missed a good twenty five minutes of class.”

“Yeah, you’re going to hang up now and actually participate in that class, okay?”

“Are you my mother?”

“Shut up and get back in there.”

“Fine.” Gerard said and Frank could hear the grin in his voice. “Bye Frankie.”

“Bye Gee.”

Frank hung up the phone and kept walking back to his dorm. Walking in, he went to his and Brendon’s room and unlocked the door. Stepping in, he pushed the door shut and-

“PUT ON SOME FUCKING PANTS!” Frank bellowed at Brendon and Ryan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment maybe?


	4. Homoerotic Tendencies and Shameless Flirting

It was once again 7 am and Frank was back in Physics class. He was utterly exhausted. He could barely keep his eyes open and breathing and keeping himself upright were becoming massive tasks. 

“Someone had a late night?” Gerard asked, sliding into the desk next to him.

“Oh God yes.” Frank groaned. “I didn’t sleep at all last night. 

“What kept you up so late?” Gerard furrowed his eyebrows. “You didn’t have some huge ass essay due today did you? On the first week? Cause that’s a really dick move for a teacher to-”

“No, worse.” Frank buried his head in his arms and shut his eyes. “Ryan came back over last night around eleven and he and Brendon had marathon sex.”

“And they woke you up?”

“No, I wasn’t even asleep to being with.”

Gerard winced. “Yikes.”

“I have heard some terrible things and I want to scrub my brain out with bleach.” Frank moaned.

“That bad?”

“Brendon is a very vocal top. Or bottom. I don’t know, I’m pretty sure they’re both versatile.”

“You mean-”

“Frank burrow further into his arms. “Yes. I did say marathon earlier.”

Gerard’s eyes widened. “And you just sat there and listened?!”

“What was I supposed to do?" Frank cried. "Stand up and ask them to put their dicks away because I was trying to sleep?”

“You have no idea how unbelievably sorry I am for you right now.”

“Eh, it’s a little late for that.” Frank picked up his head. “I have heard a lot of loud noises from Brendon and Ryan that I never want to even think about again, let alone hear.”

“Hey, by the way, do you want to-”

 

“Did you all get the textbooks I asked for yet?” came the wheezy question from the front of the room, cutting off whatever Gerard had to say. There were a few mumbles and Gerard looked at Frank and raised an eyebrow, as if to ask if he had ordered it yet or something. Frank shook his head and mouthed “Later today, okay?” Gerard nodded and looked back up front. Mr. Fitzer was frowning.

“Get them soon.” he warned. 

"Can I meet you at your dorm later today so we can get the book and I can pay you back?" Gerard whispered to Frank as Mr. Fitzer turned around and began to talk about waves and particles. 

"Sure. I'm in Westside housing, first floor, room 111."

"111? Like, eleventy-one?" Gerard asked excitedly. "From Lord of the Rings." He grinned. 

"You know-" Frank started. 

"Oh course I know Lord of the Rings!" Gerard exclaimed. "What, do you think I live under a rock?" He said, getting even louder.

"Mr. Way," a voice barked. Mr. Fitzer had heard Gerard (though how he did was a miracle to Frank, the guy was so old he probably couldn't hear a truck until it hit him) and was turning to address him. 

"Yes?" Gerard answered sweetly. 

"Mr. Way, would you care to share what you and Mr. Iero were talking about with the class?"

"Nah, not especially."Gerard said slowly, as if contemplating whether or not his conversation was worth sharing. The class picked up on his sass and there were a few giggles but the sarcasm flew right over Mr. Fitzer's head. 

 

"Well, thank you for being honest with us." he said. "I can only suppose you two were discussing your homoerotic relationship." he mused aloud. 

Gerard gaped at him. "Excuse me?" he spluttered. Frank's expression matched his, except he was considerably more red in the face. 

The entire class burst into laughter. Mr. Fitzer frowned. 

"Yes, homoerotic. You two have been rather, how should I put it, involved with each other and one can make the logical assumption that you two young men are in a relationship." Mr. Fitzer beamed, proud of himself for apparently making what he was referring to as a 'logical assumption' and what Frank would call 'maybe-it-would-happen-once-in-a-dream-because-come-one-Gerard-is-hot', not that he would ever admit that aloud. 

Gerard still had his mouth open in shock. "I... We... Frank and I..." he spluttered until some sophomore took pity on him and yelled out "He thinks you're boning him, dude."

Gerard rolled his eyes. "Thanks asshole, now it's crystal clear."

“Language Mr. Way.” Mr. Fitzer said absently with a distracted wave of his hand. He was too busy scrutinizing Frank, who wasn’t sitting forward with shock anymore but was instead sinking low into his seat and was blushing furiously. 

“You there, Mr. Iero. What’s your first name? Fred?”

“Frank,” he snapped, sitting up a bit more than before.

“Do you wish to share your thoughts on this matter?” Mr. Fitzer asked. 

“Oh fuck no,” Frank muttered. Mr. Fitzer apparently was deaf though so he raised his voice. “No, I think Gerard here has said everything that needed to be said.”

Mr. Fitzer raised an eyebrow and went back to teaching but only about three students were actually paying attention anymore. The rest were staring at Gerard and Frank. Some of the girls were giggling and pointing and whispering to each other behind cupped hands, as if that made them sneaky or something. Frank simply ignored them and burrowed further into his chair. 

\------------------------------------------------------

Physics ended and Frank left the lecture hall, pausing when Gerard called out to him to wait. Awkwardly standing in the doorway, he watched as Gerard shoved all his stuff into his bag (how he didn’t lose anything in that mess was a mystery) and jumped over a row of chairs to get down to the floor. Hurrying across to Frank, the two walked out of the room and down the hall to the stairs. Opening the stairwell door, they started down, Gerard refusing to look at Frank while the latter examined the chipped paint of the railing. 

"So, wanna stop by later to get the textbook then?" Frank began hesitantly. 

"What? Oh yeah, sure." Gerard looked at Frank then quickly looked away. "That's good." 

"Okay," Frank said with uncertainty. "I guess I'll see you then." He trailed off and yawned enormously. "That is, if I don't fall asleep in the writing class." Frank said and Gerard smiled. 

"I'm sure you'll find a way to stay awake." he assured Frank. 

They reached the end of the stairs and walked out into the main floor. Footsteps echoing, they crossed the room and exited the building together, where they split ways, Gerard heading left and Frank turning right towards his writing class. 

Giving a little wave goodbye, Frank walked along the asphalt and dug into his pocket for his earbuds and phone. Cramming them into his ears, he turned his music and tuned out the world as the soothing sound of guitar washed over him. 

\------------------------------------------------------

Someone tapped Frank on the shoulder. He looked up from his paper and over at a dark haired boy. Frank pulled his earbuds out of his ears. 

“You know you’re singing alone to your music, right?” The guy asked.

“What?” Frank said dumbly.

“You’re singing out loud to your music.” came the explanation. “I mean, Metallica is good, I appreciate the music choice, but I thought you’d like to know.”

“Oh, thanks.” Frank said, embarrassed. 

The guy smiled. “Pete,” he said. “Pete Wentz.”

“Frank Iero.”

“Nice to meet you Frankie.”

“Call me that again and I’ll punch you.”

Pete pouted. “That’s not very nice, threatening to punch someone you just met.”

“Eh, I’ve been told that I’m a danger to society, that includes you.”

Pete snorted. “You’re what, five feet tall?”

“And you’re much taller?”

“Touché.”

“Why does everyone say that? Is it some common french thing to say?” Frank wondered aloud.

“I dunno, people just say it. And I still don’t see how you are a menace to society.”

“I believe I said danger, not menace, and yeah, I tend to be a little….”

“Rowdy?” Pete raised an eyebrow.

“You could say that.” Frank mused.

“Class dismissed.” called the professor. He was tall, probably about six feet or something and looked like he was 23, tops. Definitely a nice change from, the centuries-old Mr. Fitzer.

Frank rose from his seat and Pete followed, both of them walking out the door. 

“Oh, and Frank,” the professor called.

“Yeah Mr. Gaskarth?” Frank paused on his way out the door.

“Don’t think that I didn’t notice your lack of work or the presence of your headphones throughout the entirety of class.” Mr. Gaskarth replied, pushing his flop of hair out of his eyes. “I’m letting it slide this time but I expect more from you.”

“Sure.” Frank replied with a weary and nowhere-near-authentic smile. “Will do.”

Frank left the room, Pete trailing behind him. “I can’t fucking believe he actually called me out on that.” he groaned.

“To be fair, you were singing along.” Pete reasoned. 

Still grumbling, Frank left the building and set off across the campus green, Pete trotting in his wake.

“Where you headed?” Pete asked, tripping over his sneakers, just like Gerard had the other day. Speaking of which…

“Back to my dorm. I’ve got to buy a textbook.”

Pete pulled a face. “Sounds boring. Can I come?”

Frank gave Pete a look. “So you can watch me do boring stuff?”

 

“I’ve finished all my classes, they’re all scheduled in the morning. So yeah, I’m bored and you seem like you could do with some company.”

Frank shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

Pete bounced ahead, darting around Frank as they made their way towards Westside dorms. Pete seemed to have an endless amount of energy, bounding past Frank only to double back and circle him. He reminded Frank of an over-energetic puppy. 

Finally arriving at the dorm, Frank flashed his ID card at the scanner and it beeped, letting him and Pete in. They walked to Frank’s room and he unlocked the door and let Pete in, silently hoping Brendon wasn’t in there with Ryan again. Thankfully, the room was empty.

Pete immediately kicked off his shoes and went over to Frank’s bed, perching on the side. Frank rolled his eyes. Leaving the door slightly open so Gerard would be able to get in later and licking on the lights, he made his way to his desk, sliding into the chair and pulling his computer out of his backpack. Setting it on the table, he open it and pulled up a web browser.

“Hey, can you read what that piece of paper says, the one by the pillows?” Frank asked Pete, who had sprawled out on top of Frank’s duvet.

“This one?” Pete asked. He was holding the piece of paper Gerard had written his number on. 

“Nah, the other one.” Frank said, pointing out the other paper by the pillows. Pete looked over and picked up the right paper.

“This one?”

“Yup.” Frank nodded. “What does it say?”

“A couple of things actually. Intro to Physics; Volume 1, newest one, and Frank Iero looooves Gerard with-no-last-name.” Pete read aloud. “And yes, there are that many “o” in the word love.”

Frank groaned. “I’m going to kill Brendon.”

“Who?”

“My roommate.” Frank finished typing in the textbook name and looked over at Pete, who had somehow managed to get on his back with his feet resting on the wall by the bed, above his head. “He is under the impression that I can’t get anyone’s number without being attracted to them.” Frank explained. “Apparently I can’t be gay and be able to make friends with guys at the same time.”

“Frank, do you have something you need to tell me?” Pete asked, fluttering his eyelashes. “Because, you know, I happen to be a guy and I think you just tried to be my friend.” Pete continued, batting his eyes at Frank even more.

“PETE FUCKING WENTZ!” Frank yelled, mortified. 

“What? Pete said innocently. “I am a guy, and I am in your room and we are both gay, well,” he added as an after thought, “bi in my case, and I am rather, scratch that, very attractive, hell, I’m fucking hot. I’m smoking hot. I am extremely sexy, Frank. I am quite possibly the sexiest man on earth. I am so so very se-”  
Pete broke off and stared at the door. Confused, Frank turned to look and saw Gerard and Patrick standing there, looking at Pete with varying degrees of confusion on their faces.

“Hell-o.” Pete whistled low. “And you are?”

“I’m Gerard.” Gerard said slowly, watching Pete. “This is Patrick.” He pointed at Patrick, who was still staring at Pete. Realizing this, Patrick blushed and looked down at his shoes. “And you are?”

“Oh, don’t mind him, he’s apparently too busy being the sexiest man on earth.” Frank said. Pete glared at him from his upside position on the bed.

“I am the sexiest, don’t deny it, Frank.” he said, scowling. Rolling upright, Pete stood and looked at Gerard and Patrick. “Although blondie here is running a close second.” Pete said slowly, smirking as Patrick’s blush deepened. “You are one hot hot tamale.” he murmured, Frank being the only one to catch the phrase, and even then, just barely hearing it. “I’m Pete.” he said. “I seem to have lost my phone number, can I have yours?” he said to Patrick, who looked up at Pete with wide eyes. 

“Y-yes,” he stammered. “Totally.”

“Good,” Pete said, pulling his phone out of his pocket and handing it to Patrick without breaking eye contact. Patrick clutched at the phone and didn’t look away from Pete. The moment dragged on until Gerard cleared his throat.

“If you’re done having eye sex,” he said, “I’m going to buy a textbook with Frank now.”

Patrick turned scarlet and looked down at Pete’s phone, which he was practically crushing in his grip. Pete simply grinned.

“No problem,” he said, sauntering past Gerard closer to Patrick. “I was feeling a little off today,” he whispered in Patrick’s ear as he got closer, “but you’ve definitely turned me on.” He said, just loud enough for Frank and Gerard to hear. 

“And on that note.” Frank interjected. “Gerard, I found the textbook, want to come over here?” he asked. “Pete, don’t harass Patrick.”

But sooner had the words left Frank’s mouth then Patrick leaned closer to Pete and whispered something on his ear. Frank only caught part of it, something about “sugar” and “going down” and “you”, and Frank had a pretty good idea what Patrick said, based on Pete’s reddening ears.

\------------------------------------------------------

Frank and Gerard finally got around to buying the textbook and Gerard promised to pay for half of it, swearing he would have the money the next time he stopped by Frank’s room. Pete and Patrick had ended up sitting next to each other on Frank’s bed, talking about god knows what and occasionally shamelessly flirting with each other, some of Frank’s favorite being “You’re 65% water and I’m thirsty.” and “Do you work at Dick’s? ‘Cause you’re sporting the goods.”

“Hey, I’m doing nothing on Saturday.” Pete announced.

“Congratulations.” Gerard said. “Want a prize? A teddy bear?”

“Funny.” Pete said, giving Gerard a look. “No, I was wondering if you all wanted to hang out or something. I’ve heard about this really great bar club thing just off campus and I wanted to know if you all wanted to go.”

“Bar club thing?” Frank asked. “Doesn’t sound shady at all.”

Pete pouted. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“Yeah Frankie, I’m going to go, and we already know Patrick’s going.” Gerard said.

“Hey, why doesn’t he get threatened with a punch to the face?” Pete whined.

“Cause I don’t mind when he calls me Frankie.” Frank retorted. “You, on the other hand, will use it excessively and it will land you with a black eye.”

Patrick snorted in amusement. “Come on, Frankie,” he said, drawing out the name. “Come with us!”

“Sure. Saturday, right?”

“Yeah, we can meet here and we’ll head out together.” Pete said. “This is going to be great, wait and see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess which loser had all of her midterms cancelled!?  
> Now I have this entire week off so I will be writing more so expect another update soon.
> 
> Do you have any idea how much fun cheesy pick up lines are?  
> Also, Alex Gaskarth got to make a surprise appearance. I just kinda really wanted to put him in.
> 
> Comment for the comment whore!


	5. Watch yourself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, warning time. There is an attempt at rape in this chapter. It's implied, nothing bad actually happens but it's there. Wanted to give you all fair warning before hand so you knew what you were getting yourself into.
> 
> Note: Ethan is completely fictional and yes, Jack the bouncer is Jack Barakat. You can't expect me NOT to include my children from All Time Low

“This is so not where I expected I would end up.” Frank told Pete, leaning in and speaking into his ear. Pete turned to him and grinned. 

"Awww Frankie, don't worry," he said, ducking the seat Frank aimed at his head. "Gerard will show up and you two can get frisky in the dance floor."

This time, Frank really did he him. Pete grumbled at him, rubbing his head and trying to fix his now-messy hair. 

Frank turned away from Pete and glanced around the club. It was some dark, shady place that looked like a drug dealer's hideout from the outside but was actually pretty nice and welcoming inside. Pete had somehow managed to get Frank in without the bouncer causing much of a fuss, saying "Jack is an old friend, he won't mind." 

And true to Pete's word, Jack didn't mind. He simply waved Pete and Frank in (not before winking at both) and didn't say a word at how obviously under aged the pair was. 

"Want something to drink?" Pete asked Frank, who raised an eyebrow.

"In case you haven't noticed, we are wildly underage. How the fuck do you plan on getting a drink?"

Pete winked. "Watch and learn grasshopper." He said, walking away and making his way over towards a guy leaning on the bar. 

"Hey there, I'm Pete." Frank heard him say. Frank snorted incredulously. If Pete was planning on flirting his way to a beer... 

Pete was still talking to the guy when his newfound friend gestured to the bartender and asked for two drinks. Pete hurriedly murmured something, giving the guy a suggestive wink and another drink came out. Pete smiled at the guy then pointedly looked at Frank, who came over and grabbed his drink with a shrug. Hey, if Pete's tactics worked, he wasn't complaining. 

"Frank, this is Andy. We were just talking about his band. He's a drummer." Pete said adoringly, batting his eyelashes at a poor flustered Andy. 

"You play? Cool." Frank said with interest as he took a gulp of whatever was in his glass. Fuck, that was strong. "I play guitar, not in a band though, just as a hobby."

Andy opened his mouth to reply when Frank felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He turned, expecting to see Gerard or Patrick but was instead met by a tall, floppy haired man. 

"Dude, you play?" He said excitedly. "My band is actually looking for a rhythm guitarist. If you wanted to come check us out, you could try for the part of you wanted." 

"Seriously?" Frank asked, gaping at the guy. "You would do that?"

"Hey, if you're good enough, we'd take you on." The guy shrugged. He stuck out a hand for Frank to shake, who took it. 

"Ethan," the dark haired man said, sweeping his flop of hair out of his dark eyes. 

"Frank," he replied with a smile. 

"Well, Frank, let me buy you another drink and we can talk about the band."

Frank followed Ethan to a table by the side door exit. Sitting down with a huff, he shrugged off a black leather jacket and draped it over the back of one of the chairs there. Frank took a chair across from him and settled himself in, still clutching the nearly empty glass of whatever Pete had gotten for him from Andy. 

"Any requests?" Ethan asked him. 

"Hmmm?" Frank looked at Ethan with minor confusion until he realized he was asking him what he wanted to drink. "Oh, I'll just have whatever you're having."

Ethan raised an eyebrow at Frank but said nothing. "Sure, I'll be right back." With that, Ethan turned and walked back the bar. Frank watched him go, surveying the way he moved and the animated was he spoke to the bartender. The guy reminded him a little of Gerard, except taller and definitely more stocky. 

Speaking of which, Frank hadn't seen Gerard or Patrick yet. He checked his phone and saw a text message had come in about five minutes ago. It was from Gerard and said that he and Patrick were running a little late and that they would be there as soon as they could. Frank smiled a little. He quickly tapped out an answer, letting Gerard know exactly where the bar Pete had found was and telling them to call him when they got there. Hitting send, Frank jammed his phone back into his pocket as Ethan came back to the table with two opened bottles of beer. Setting on onto the table in front of Frank, he settled down into his chair and took a drink from his bottle. 

Frank accepted the beer and took it in his hands, taking a drink and regarding Ethan from over the run as he did so. 

"So," Ethan said with a smile, leaning in closer to Frank, who took another sip from the bottle and mimicked Ethan's position. 

"You have a band." Frank stated. "And I want to play guitar for your band." he continued. "So let me ask you this, what do I have to do to get you to let me on as rhythm guitarist. 

\------------------------------------------------------

It may have been hours later, it may have been minutes later, all Frank knew was that Ethan just kept bringing him drinks and that the room was starting to spin. Things were hazy and Frank was feeling weak, like he has just ran a marathon and might pass out, except Frank was so out of it that the idea of him running a marathon at any point in time was ridiculous. 

Ethan seemed to notice Frank's incapacitated state but did little to help him out, simple taking him by the arm and guiding him out of his seat at the table. 

"I.... I need to... to..." Frank tried to say but the words weren't coming out. "Need to find Pete."

"Shhh," Ethan soothed him with a soft pet to Frank's hair and simply continued to taking him in the opposite direction from the bar, where Frank knew Pete must be. 

"Where-"

"Hush," Ethan kept murmuring, one hand on Frank's shoulder, keeping him on course to where ever he was being taken, while another hand was resting on his lower back. 

"Wait, I..." Frank tried to say but nothing was working right, everything was a fuzzy mess. His brain felt like a wet painting that someone had dragged their hands through, swirling up the distinct colors and turning them into a muddy brown soup with no distinction.

He was definitely drunk to some degree but Frank had experience in the partying department and he knew that something was wrong. No one got this drunk off of two or three or was it four beers. Something was very wrong but his brain wasn't moving fast enough to figure out what it was. 

"I can't-" Frank began but he was overcome by a bout of nausea and he was unable to finish his sentence in fear of vomiting all over the floor. "Wheresh Pete? Gee?" Frank mumbled, slurring his words and feeling woozy. His knees started to buckle and he nearly fell, but Ethan supported his body and continued to half guide, half drag Frank to the side exit. 

"Come on Frank, it's okay baby. You want to be a part of the band right? Gotta take you for a test drive first."

Frank barely heard him his head was pounding so hard but what he heard made his blood run cold and he nearly fell again. Frank tried to pull away from Ethan but his muscles didn't seem to want to respond or cooperate with him and all he could do was feel himself get dragged out the door and shoved up against the brick wall outside. 

"So pretty," Ethan murmured and Frank's stomach gave another heave, whether from nausea or fear he really didn't know.

Ethan grabbed Frank and licked a line from his jawbone down his neck, pausing at his pulse point to suck gently on the skin there. Frank shuddered. Where the fuck was Pete when he needed him? Where was Gerard or Patrick or even Jack the bouncer? Where-

Ethan slammed his mouth against Frank's, kissing him harshly and pressing inside Frank's mouth, dragging his tongue through the inside and roughly pulling him closer as he did so. Frank's mouth felt completely violated and he wanted to cry. 

The world was going dark at the edges and Frank's knees were giving out again. There was a weird ringing noise coming from somewhere and Frank figured it must be in his head because Ethan didn't seem to notice. But it couldn't have been because the ringing stopped then started up again a few seconds later and Frank realized it was his cellphone. 

"Frank?" Someone shouted and all of a sudden Ethan was being dragged off of Frank and Frank was slumping to the ground and there was the sound of a scuffle and someone grunted with pain and Frank slipped away into darkness. 

\------------------------------------------------------

"Frank? FRANK!?" Someone was shouting Frank's name and he tried to open his eyes. A wave of nausea hit him and he nearly vomited on whomever was talking. The voice sounded slightly familiar and Frank tried to peel open his eyes to look at the owner of the voice. 

"Gerard?" he mumbled. "That you?"

"Oh god Frank. What happened to you? Oh god oh god oh-"

"Gerard, I wanna go home." Frank said quietly and Gerard stopped talking.

"Okay, come on Frank, let's go. Come on." Gerard said and he gently tugged Frank to his feet. 

The two made their way towards the street and Gerard hailed a taxi to take them back to campus. Sliding into the car, Gerard pulled Frank in after him and settled him down on the seat with his head in Gerard's lap. Once situated, he called Patrick and they talked in hushed tones for a few minutes. 

Nothing he was saying was making much sense to Frank's ears. Everything sounded muffled. Frank just focused on Gerard's face, staring at the curve of his jaw, the slope of his neck, the way his hair fell past his ears and slipped down his neck in soft strands, the way his eyes shone as the headlights from other cars on the street spilled into the cab and illuminated his face, the way-

\------------------------------------------------------

Frank must have fallen asleep because he was opening his eyes to a swaying sensation and realized he was in the air. Well, not exactly but it damn well felt like it. He was being carried and Frank was pretty sure it was Gerard's arms that were wrapped around him. 

"Gee?"

"I'm here Frank?" came the reassuring reply. "You okay?" 

"Where-" 

"I'm taking you back to your dorm room"  
"Brendon-"

"-has been notified of what happened. He was at Ryan's dorm when I called."

Frank nodded and burrowed his head into Gerard's chest. He drifted off again and let himself fall back asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *peeks through fingers at you* sorry. (You can expect an update soon though)


	6. Do Cuddles Really Require Condoms?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love me, I have added another chapter.

The next time Frank woke up, he was curled up in a ball and was incredibly warm and comfortable and had a headache. Actually, migraine would probably be a better word for it. 

Groaning, he shifted slightly and rolled over. The pounding in his head got worse. It felt like someone was trying to hammer their way out of his skull. Like someone decided that his brain was the best place for a construction zone and the idiot with a jackhammer was going at it like there was no tomorrow. Like a drummer had jumped into his head and decided to beat the shit out of the bass drum and hit the cymbals as many times as he could in one minute, then do it again. 

In other words, Frank's head hurt. A lot. 

Frank groaned again, louder this time, rolling around where he was laying. He legs got tangled in something and he flailed around in a panic, his entire body aching. He rolled over completely, trying to get away from whatever was holding his legs and he promptly slipped off whatever he was laying on. Then he was weightless and falling and hitting something, the floor most likely, with a thump and another groan of pain. 

Now thoroughly confused as to where he was, Frank blearily blinked and squinted when the sun hit his eyes, intensifying his headache. 

"Nooooo," he croaked out, curling up in a ball on the floor and burying his head in his arms. "Gooawway" he mumbled, whining at the sunlight and screwing his eyes shut in protest. 

Someone chuckled behind Frank and he moaned again. "Brendon, wat did you doooo to meh? he mumbled. "Am I dead? Did I die? Have I deaded?" Frank was so confused and tired and in so much goddamn pain from his head that he has no idea what was going on. 

"Deaded? Really Frank?" The voice said. 

"Shhh, too loud." Frank whined, still curled up in the floor. 

"Come on Frankie, let's get you back in bed." Frank felt someone gently grasping his arms and pulling him upright. His head spun and he choked out a warning before vomiting all over the person who was pulling him to his feet. The person sighed.

"Oh Frank, what did you get yourself into?" 

Unable to respond, Frank allowed himself to be guided back to the cozy place he had woken up in, his bed, presumably, and tucked back under the covers. He immediately fell back asleep. 

\------------------------------------------------------

Frank woke up again much later, according to the lack of bright sunlight. His headache has lessened and the world was no longer swaying and dipping in time to his pulse. 

Rubbing his eyes, Frank sat up and looked around him. He was in his bed, in his dorm room. There were two or three blankets on him, one of which he recognized as Brendon's. Speaking of which, his roommate was nowhere to be seen. Frank tried to remember if Brendon had told him where he was going or when he would be back but Frank was pulling a blank. He thought back to the most recent thing he remembered and-

Frank shot up straight in bed. He remembered the club and some guy, Eric or Edgar or something like that, and then the world tipping and spinning and Gerard, Gerard showed up and something happened after that. Then Frank remembered vomiting on something, no, someone, who must have been...

Something rustled from across the room and Frank looked over to see a lump on Brendon's bed stirring. A dark head poked out from under the covers and Frank had a brief moment of panic where he thought the head was the guy who's name started with an 'E' but immediately calmed down when the lump muttered something and turned over, revealing it to be Gerard.  
Frank smiled faintly and started to swing his legs off the bed so he could get up. As he was standing up, his vision swam and his felt himself swaying on his feet. Unable to direct him fall, Frank plummeted to the ground with a crash and an exclamation of "FUCK!"

Gerard's head shot up when he heard Frank shout and he too jumped out of bed, only to suffer the same fate as Frank when the bed sheet wrapped around his knees and sent him down to the floor with a cry of "FUCK" that rivaled Frank's for volume. 

Frank looked over at Gerard from the floor, who likewise turned his head to stare at Frank. They lay there in various degrees of pain until Frank blinked and looked away. 

"Sorry for vomiting all over you." he said forlornly, looking down, then back at Gerard, who gaped at Frank then burst into laughter. 

Frank's jaw dropped and he lashed out at Gerard, swatting his head with a cupped hand. Gerard simply laughed harder. 

"You get drugged, nearly pass out in a club and then actually pass out in a cab only to have me lug your ass across the campus and into your dorm room where I tucked you in bed not once but twice and stayed up all night to make sure you didn't die or something and you apologize for vomiting?" Gerard got out between giggles. "Frank, you've got to get your priorities straight. And anyways, you shouldn't be apologizing." Gerard added, his expression growing serious. "You were roofied or whatever, I don't blame you."

Frank said nothing, only regarded Gerard with an expression of gratitude. Then he frowned. "Twice?"

"You fell out of bed earlier." Gerard clarified. Frank nodded in realization. 

"So that's why my ass hurts so much." he reasoned. 

Gerard smiled sympathetically. "Probably."

Frank sat up on the floor and rubbed his eyes again. "Have you been here the whole time I was out?"

"Yeah, I sent Patrick back to our dorm room and I think he took Pete with him but that was yesterday. Brendon is staying with Ryan, he's coming back on Sunday night."

"And today is...?"

"It's Saturday afternoon." Gerard said with a nod out the window towards the setting sun.

Frank nodded slowly then stretched, moving to stand up. He got to his feet and looked down. 

"Where did my pants go?"

Gerard blushed from his position on the floor. "They're, uh, over there on your chair." 

Frank nodded and went over, pulling them on and buckling his belt. Gerard stood up from the floor and went over to Frank's desk. He grabbed a container of Advil and a bottle of water, handing both to Frank, who accepted them. Opening the bottle and dumping the medicine into his hand, Frank swallowed two with a gulp of the water. Capping the bottle and setting both down on the desk, he looked over at Gerard. 

"Do you need to go to your dorm to get anything? You've been here for a while so I don't blame you if you want to go." 

Gerard grimaced. "I don't want to leave you alone though. What if you need something or-" 

Frank rolled his eyes. " I'm fine Gerard. Look, I'll come with you if it makes you feel better."

Gerard's eyes widened and he tried to shake his head no but Frank marched over to the door and shoved his shoes onto his sock-covered feet. 

"Come on, Gee. Let's go."

A reluctant Gerard made his way over to the door, sliding his shoes on his feet and allowing Frank to push him out of the room. 

"Are you sure you should be up and walking around already 'cause I have a cousin who was roofied by some guy at a party she went to and she didn't go anywhere for a few days afterwards 'cause she was so out of it and-"

"Gerard, shut up." Frank said good naturedly. "You really need to listen to me 'cause I'm telling you the truth. I mean it, I'm okay, trust me."

"Well, I'm not okay. You were roofied so I'm not o-fucking-kay with you walking around so soon."

"You're not o-fucking-kay?" Frank asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "That's some deep shit right there."

"Frank Iero, I swear to God-"

Frank cut him off with a snort. "What? You're threatening me so soon after my recovery? Gerard, I thought you loved me?" Frank said, mock-hurt painted across his face. 

"No Frank, I don't love you, not like I did yesterday." Gerard said, playing along with Frank's tragic soap opera acting. 

"Oh Gerard," Frank wailed with mock-anguish, causing a few of the nearby students to look over at the pair as they made their way over to Gerard's dorm building's entrance. 

The pair burst into laughter as Gerad opened the door into the building. He led the way down the hall and towards a door marked 136. Pulling out a key, Gerard unlocked the door and opened it, ushering Frank in behind him and shutting the door with an audible click. 

"Trick?" Gerard called out into the room as he tied off his sneakers. "You here?"

A head burrowed its way out of the blankets on one of the beds and a flop of blond hair appeared, messy and sticking up in odd places. 

"Gerard!" Patrick yelped. "And Frank?!"

"Yeah..." Gerard said slowly, making his way over to his bed and sitting down on the black blanket covering it. "Who else would it be?" 

"Uh, n-no one...?" Patrick said with uncertainty. Gerard sighed. 

"Okay Trick, what's up with the stammering?" Gerard asked pointedly. 

"Up? Nothing's up, nothing at all, everything is down. Down and low and-"

"Did they leave?"

Patrick jumped and blushed crimson as a second head poked its way out from under the covers of Patrick's bed. 

"Pete?" Frank asked incredulously. "What-"

"He was, uh, cold. Yeah! He was cold so I offered him a blanket and we're just sitting under the blankets 'cause Pete was cold." Patrick rambled, blushing fiercely. Pete simply burrowed into Patrick's back and looked at Gerard, who had turned his attention from a flustered Patrick to something on the floor. With a sigh, he picked it up and held it out pointedly at Patrick. 

"And I suppose cuddling requires you to open a condom, does it?"

Patrick turned an even darker shade of red and looked away. 

"It was there when Pete got here...?" he said tentatively. 

Pete sighed in exasperation. "Yes, Patrick and I had sex. Yes, we're naked right now. No, you cannot stay for round two." He paused. "Three?" he said a little quieter, looking down at Patrick, who shrugged. Pete returned his attention to Gerard and Frank. "Now, shoo!"

Gerard couldn't have made it any faster out the door even if you strapped him to a rocket. He was out of the room with Frank in tow in under five seconds, kicking his shoes out the door with him and slamming it shut behind him. He was breathing hard. 

"Change of plans." he got out."I no longer need anything from my room. Can we leave and never come back?"

Frank took one look at Gerard's mortified pleading face and burst into laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm Not Okay (I Promise) and I Don't Love You references? I must be a goddess. 
> 
> Comment. You know you want to. *evil laugh*


	7. The Consequences of Badly Timed Silences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, I've taken forever to update this, you have my full permission to hate me. I'm sorry for that and I'm also sorry for what happened in this chapter.

A week passed, and then another and then another and all Frank had to mark the passing of time was Gerard's increasingly frequent visits to his dorm room. They started out as small visits, once or twice a week, usually just to grab the textbook they shared, then escalated to three four five times a week.

Frank confronted Gerard one night about his increasingly frequent presence in the dorm room. 

“Why do you spend so much time here?” Frank had asked while the two of them were sitting side by side on Frank’s bed. Frank’s laptop was open and sitting on his lap, whirring and heating up like asphalt in the summer does. The closing credits to Dawn of the Dead were scrolling across the screen. The two of them had just finished the movie and were simply sitting there, pressed up against each other and staring blankly at the computer. Well, Gerard was. Frank was staring at Gerard. 

Gerard turned his head away from the laptop and looked at Frank. “I dunno, I guess I like it here.” he said, shrugging slightly and jostling Frank, who was leaning against him. Gerard glanced down at his hands, which were sitting in his lap. He scratched the back of one hand and Frank glanced down too, only too look back up at Gerard’s face when he started to speak again. “Is that a bad thing?” Gerard asked, frowning slightly as he spoke. He looked up from his lap at Frank again, drawing away from the other boy ever so slightly as he did so. 

“No,” Frank said quickly. “I’m just noticing.”

“Good.” Gerard replied, smiling a little and nudging Frank goodnaturedly. “‘Cause I don’t know what I’d do if you were sick of me.” he said, turning his face away from Frank and looking back at the now black screen. He settled back down against Frank and sighed contentedly. “Now pass the popcorn, I know there’s some left, don't lie.”

That was last week, and now Gerard was making regular appearances at Frank's dorm room. Frank had even started to leave the door open slightly when he was around just so Gerard could get in and out easily. It wasn't unusually for Gerard to go to the door, yank it open, burst in with a bang as he slipped on the ever-present clutter just past the door, curse loudly then yell an apology to whichever college student was yelling at him from down the hall to be quiet. 

It was 9:00 when Frank got what would be, for a while, his last visit from Gerard. 

Frank was sitting at his desk with the shared physics textbook open next to him. He was trying to study something about forces or was it energy or maybe it was something else, Frank honestly had no idea and he was past the point of caring. 

He yawned, stretching and arching his back like a cat. Frank sighed and looked back down at the textbook, the words swimming in front of his eyes and blurring. 

“Fuck this.” Frank muttered, going to slam the book shut. He grabbed the front cover and was about to close it when he paused, noticing something scrawled in pencil in the margins of the page in front of him. Suddenly awake, Frank squinted at the words, making out Gerard’s messy scrawl on the page. “Keep studying you idiot, I’ll bring you coffee tomorrow.” The words spanned across the blank section of the textbook, the dull gray graphite marring the otherwise pristine page. 

Frank frowned. Gerard had returned the book earlier today, meaning that the message was probably fairly new. Smiling slightly, Frank picked up the pencil he had sitting next to the textbook and wrote under Gerard’s note; “I’ll hold you to that” with a little smile next to it. Frank looked at what he had written and then cringed and erased the smiley. It was still fucking cheesy but Frank didn’t care.

Keeping the textbook open, Frank went back to reading the section on how forces affected the natural world, still not really absorbing the information but definitely happier. The promise of coffee was something that Frank was definitely looking forward to. 

The was a thud from outside the room. It sounded like something was colliding with the door. Frank rolled his eyes. Brendon had probably gotten back from wherever the hell he had gone earlier today. It was more likely than not that he was tipsy and couldn't get the door open. 

Frank got up from his chair and made his way over to the door. A faint noise was coming from the other side, a scraping noise that sounded like a key being forced into an uncooperative lock and a quiet continuous muttering of “fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck”. Grasping the doorknob, Frank pulled it open and was greeted by not Brendon but someone else. A dark haired someone else who was undoubtedly much more than a little tipsy. The person was still clawing at the place where the doorknob had been and very nearly groped Frank in the process.

Frank jumped back, away from the hand that was much closer to his dick than was acceptable. Peering through the curtain of shaggy hair, Frank looked into the visitor’s eyes and sighed. Grabbing the person’s hand, Frank dragged him into the dorm room with a sigh of “Oh Gerard, what happened to you?”

“Frankie?” Gerard asked, words slightly slurred. “Why am I here?”

“You tell me, idiot.” Frank retorted, crossing his arms. He knew he was being a little harsh but Gerard was too far gone to be gentle with him. “You just showed up here.” He continued, taking Gerard’s hand and guiding him to the bed, sitting him down and allowing the greasy haired boy to flop down and sprawl out on the duvet. 

“This is where I live.” Gerard stated, pouting slightly as he looked at Frank. “Why are you in my room?”

“Gerard, this isn’t your dorm.”

“This is home.” Gerard insisted. “I’m coming home and its the afternoon because I told Patrick I’d be back by six seven eight?” Gerard said, his words stringing together and an expression of confusion appearing on his face as he tried to remember what time he had told Patrick.

“Gerard, it’s 9:00.”

“That’s the afternoon.” Gerard said stubbornly.

“Nine isn’t in the afternoon.”

“So says you.” Gerard replied, looking around and walking further into the room.

"And everyone else in the universe." Frank responded, shutting the door behind Gerard as he made his way into the room. Stumbling was probably a better word for it though, being that he could barely keep himself vertical as he meandered through the mess that was Frank and Brendon’s dorm. 

“Where did you hide Patrick?" Gerard said. "Where’s ‘Trick? The ‘Trickster. Did you know Pete calls him Pattycakes?”

“That’s nice.” Frank grimaced. Pattycakes?

Gerard grinned. “This smells nice.” he said, shoving his face into Frank’s pillow. “Frank, you smell nice.”

“Uh,” Frank was lost for words. “Thanks…?” He squinted in confusion, then rolled his eyes as Gerard burrowed into the pillow and inhaled deeply. 

“Urelcome” Gerard mumbled. Frank smiled fondly at him. “I want to sleep here.” Gerard stated, then proceeded to yawn. “I’m sleepy.”

Frank smiled down at the form sprawled out on his bed. “Then sleep, okay? I’ll be right here.” Frank walked away and went over to his desk. Picking up his phone, he sent a quick text to Patrick explaining that he had found Gerard, or rather, Gerard had found him, and that he’d be staying the night. Putting down the phone, Frank sat down at his desk and started to read the textbook again. “You owe me a cup of coffee.” he said, looking over at Gerard, who was watching him from the bed. 

“I do?”

“Yeah, you do.” Frank grinned at Gerard, who frowned, thinking about what Frank had just said. 

“Frankie,” Gerard said.

“Yeah?”

“I need,” he started to say but stopped.

“What do you need Gerard?” Frank asked gently, standing up and closing the textbook as he did so. 

“Frank, I’m coooooold.” Gerard groaned and shivered, pressing himself down into the duvet, as if that would make him warmer. “Make me warm Frank.”

Frank walked over to Brendon’s bed and grabbed a blanket from the foot of it, unfolding it and bringing it to Gerard. 

“Here.” he said gently, draping it over Gerard’s body and watching as he burrowed under the blanket.

Frank moved to step away from the bed but Gerard’s arm shot out from under the blanket. He grabbed Frank by the elbow and drag him down next to him on the bed.  
“You stay here, here, yeah here.” Gerard said stupidly, his grip on Frank’s arm surprisingly strong for someone as intoxicated as he was.

“What?” Frank went to sit up but Gerard clung to his arm and whined at him like a puppy. 

“Fraaank.”He moaned and Frank shivered at the tone in his voice. “Please,” he begged and Frank felt himself getting hot. 

“Uh, Gerard,” Frank said gently, but he was cut off by Gerard’s whining. Frank grimaced but slid back down next to Gerard on the bed. Gerard made a happy noise and snuggled into Frank, graciously giving him some blanket as Gerard burrowing into Frank’s t-shirt and pressed his body close against Frank’s. Frank gulped. Gerard was warm and very very close and was touching nearly the entire length of Frank’s body and he was 98% sure that that it was not an inanimate object in Gerard’s pocket that was pressed hard against Frank’s thigh. 

“Gee,” Frank said softly but Gerard snuffled into his shirt and mumbled something that made Frank freeze. 

“Huh?” Frank asked softly, peering down at Gerard in confusion. “What was that?”

Gerard mumbled again and this time what he said was clearer. 

“Gerard,” Frank said again.

“Love ‘ou Frankie” came the mumble again and although most of the letters were missing from the phrase, Frank knew exactly what Gerard had said.

“Gerard, what-” Frank began but once again he was cut off but the sleepy boy in his arms.

“Sooo much, Frank. Soooo muhnch.” Gerard throw a couple of extra letters into the words but Frank was getting to be fluent in drunk Gerard speech so he had no trouble deciphering what was being said. “Love you, need ‘ou, mmmm.” Gerard make a noise that had Frank melting a little and proceed to snuggle impossibly closer to Frank, rubbing against him like a cat. Frank gulped again and tried to sit up, pulling away from Gerard.

“NooOOOooO.” came the broken moan from the bed as Gerard lost his source of warmth. “Come baaaaa-” he started, but couldn’t finish his sentence when he started to bleat like a sheep and dissolved into giggles. “Baaa,” he said, and giggled again like a five year old. “Frank, be a sheep with meee.”

“Stop.” Frank said, his voice shaking. “Gerard, I need you to tell me something.”

“What?” Gerard practically purred, curling up like a cat and observing Frank through his eyelashes. Frank took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

“Gerard, what did you just say?”

“When?”

“Just now.”

“Baaa?” Gerard giggled again and Frank tried to stay composed.

“No, before that.”

“I love you?”

“Yeah,” Frank said as he exhaled, voice shaking a little.

“Why? I love you Frank.” Gerard uncurled from the ball he was in on the bed and sat up, swaying slightly and regarding Frank. “Want to-” he started, but apparently he couldn’t get the words out because Gerard simply shrugged and crawled over to Frank and sat next to him. Leaning in a little, Gerard looked into Frank’s eyes. Frank stared back, a little confused, Gerard’s hazel eyes meeting his. 

Then Gerard leaned in even further and then he was kissing Frank, his lips on Frank’s, his mouth moving and his hands coming up and sliding up Frank’s chest and to the back of his neck. Frank made a noise of surprise and Gerard must have taken it as encouragement because next thing Frank knew, he had a lap full of a warm, squirming Gerard and that was definitely not an inanimate object in Gerard’s pants.

Frank pulled away from Gerard’s mouth, breaking the kiss and looking at Gerard, who was now only inches away from Frank.

“What was that?” Frank asked. Gerard’s face fell.

“You mean, you didn’t like it?” he asked in a small voice. “Why didn’t you like it? What did I do wrong Frank?” Gerard’s voice quivered and Frank immediately backtracked.  
“No no no,” he soothed. “It’s not that I didn’t like it Gerard, It’s just-”

“You don’t like me.” Gerard finished Frank’s sentence, throwing Frank so off guard that he wasn’t able to construct a response until a few seconds passed. Gerard took those few seconds to mean that he was right and that Frank wasn’t going to bother to correct him. 

“O-okay.” Gerard said brokenly. “I’m gonna leave.” he climbed out of Frank’s lap and immediately Frank missed his weight on his legs. “I’m gonna leave now.” Gerard stumbled away and Frank was frozen where he sat in the bed. “I won’t bother you anymore Frank.” Gerard muttered, slinking away and going out the door. “Sorry.” he said and went to close the door behind him.

Frank unfroze. “Wait!” he shouted after Gerard but the door had already shut and Gerard was gone. Jumping to his feet, Frank rushed to the door and wrenched it open, running out and looking down the hall, first left, then right, and left again, hoping to still see Gerard there. But the dark haired boy was gone and Frank had no idea where he was. 

“Gerard?” Frank called hesitantly into the hall, hoping that Gerard would appear and tell him that it was not real, that he hadn’t meant it when he had said he wouldn’t bother Frank anymore, that he didn’t mean it when he left. Because Frank had liked the kiss. He liked the way Gerard’s hands had cradled the back of his neck and played with the slightly too long hair there. Frank’s only hesitations had been Gerard’s intoxication and he had waited too long and now Gerard was gone. 

Frank went back into the dorm room, shut the door behind him with a gentle click and slid to the floor and leaned back against the wood, sitting there numbly. He didn’t move, just sat there and stared straight ahead. That’s where Brendon found him the next day when he came through the door, fast asleep behind the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ..... well, you got a kiss (kinda)  
>  Comment? I'll send you your very own miniature Pete Wentz


	8. The Science of Sadness and Confusion and... Frank Doesn't Exactly Know What He's Feeling Anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love me, for I have posted again.

"Wakey wakey motherfucker." 

Frank groaned and snuggled into his blankets. Why why why did Brendon have to be a morning person?

"Fuccckovv" Frank mumbled into his blankets, turning his head away from the sound of Brendon's voice and opening his eyes a little to make sure Brendon was not hanging over him or some weird shit. Frank did not want a reenactment of the horror of the incident with the slippers. Why Brendon even owned slippers with dog faces on them was beyond Frank. 

Frank heard Brendon giggle and then he screeched as something shattered his retinas. To be fair, Brendon had only opened the blinds on the window but still. 

"Brendon!" Frank whined. "NooOOoOOoo." he warbled, shoving his head under the blankets. 

Brendon snatched off Frank's blankets and held them in his arms before dumping them in the floor. Frank curled up on the mattress into a pathetic shivering. 

"Frank, what are you wearing?"

"Pajamas." Frank muttered, curling up tighter and clutching his legs to his chest. 

"Those are Batman pajama pants."

"What's your fucking point?"

"Frank, you're wearing Batman pants."

"You said that already." Frank observed dryly, still shivering. "Wanna give me back my blankets?"

"Batman."

"I like Batman."

Brendon rolled his eyes. Frank felt it more than saw it, being that his eyes were still shut. 

"It's Monday by the way."

"Congratulations you know the days of the week."

Brendon sighed and moved around the room. "Frank, what is on Mondays?"

"Is it the day I kill you for waking me up?" Frank grumbled. He was freezing and was most definitely not in the mood for one of Brendon's early morning games. 

"Rude." Brendon said, insulted.

"Suck it up."

"I hate you."

"No you don't." Frank yawned. Hen he bolted upright. "Oh shit it's Monday!"

"Amazing! He can retain information!" Brendon said, sarcasm dripping for the words. 

"I have class. I have to go and where is my..." Frank trailed off, lost in thought as he scrambled to get dressed and find all his stuff for the stupid physics class. At the last minute, he grabbed the textbook on his desk, shoving it into his backpack and nearly breaking the whole thing as he did so. 

Frank left the room in a flurry, backpack only half on and his shoes only partially on, heels sticking out in the back. He ran out the door, ignoring Brendon's screech of "CLOSE THE GODDAMN DOOR!" 

Frank was out of the dorm, down the hill and across the grass in under three minutes, pausing along the way to properly jam his feet into his shoes. He had nearly lost one and didn't want the other one to have to suffer the same fate.

By the time Frank got to Berkling hall, he was out of breath and a complete mess, face pink and hair sticking up at odd angles. Darting inside, Frank crossed to the stairs and took them two at a time, exiting the stairwell and dashing into the lecture hall with mere minutes to spare until the class began. 

The minute Frank walked into his physics class though, he knew something was wrong. He could feel it. Something was off and Frank didn't like it. That something was Gerard. 

The normally smiling face of the dark haired boy was hidden by a curtain of shaggy hair, dropping across his eyes and face and hiding him from view. But the message was clear. The fact that Gerard was hiding was not because he didn't want to be in that class (he probably didn’t but that wasn’t the point) but instead was to shield himself from Frank. 

Dropping into the seat next to Gerard, Frank looked over at him and waited for Gerard to realize he was there. It was painfully obvious when he did. Gerard's entire body stiffened in the seat and he edged away from Frank, hunching over on himself and seeming to shrink. 

"Gerard," Frank said quietly but was cut off by a sharp glance from the other. Frank recoiled. The look Gerard threw him was not a happy one. Yes, it was angry but that wasn't the only thing that Frank could feel in the stare. It was a sad glance, and pained and hurt and most definitely embarrassed. 

Frank felt his face fall and he too slid to the edge of his seat and slumped down, mirroring Gerard's position. The two sat there, the tension between the thick and practically tangible. Frank could feel everyone's eyes on them, assessing, watching, judging. He sighed, wishing he had chosen a different seat. And thus began what felt like the absolute longest class ever. 

\-----------------------------------------------------

A knock on Frank's dorm room door startled him out of his self-induced stupor. He had been lying in bed, covers pulled up to his chin, fully clothed but definitely not fully awake. Thoughts of Gerard had taken up most of his time. Frank always seemed to be thinking of him. Specifically, his hurt and sad expression when he had left Frank’s room with such finality after he told Frank he loved him. 

The knock sounded again, an impatient tap-tap-tap, and Frank looked over at Brendon, who was sitting on his own bed with his laptop perched on his stomach and a bag of chips open next to him. The taller boy was slouched low with his shoulders resting on the headboard of the bed and his lower back flat against the mattress. Not the most comfortable of positions but then again, what did Frank know. 

Brendon looked up, as if sensing Frank’s gaze, and raised an eyebrow at him. Frank let his eyes flick to the door. 

"I'm not moving." Brendon stated firmly. Frank grunted at him and pulled the blankets higher up until all but his eyes were covered. 

"No." Brendon said again, this time with enough finality that Frank knew that he wasn't joking; Brendon had no intention of moving. 

Frank moaned and whined and generally made a huge fuss about it but he eventually got out of bed. The room felt freezing compared to his cozy blanket cocoon and he shivered. The knocking started up again and this time it didn’t end, the incessant tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap making Frank frown. Grumbling, he went over to the door, cursing out the person on the other side as he did so. 

Yanking it open, Frank peered out blearily and attempted to focus on whoever was there. There was a fist raised mid knock and Frank was nearly punched in the face. This seemed to be becoming a trend. First there was Gerard’s near grope and now there was this idiot who could have given him a black eye if Frank had moved any slower.

"You look like hell, Frankie." a voice said and Frank scowled again. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. 

"I thought I said not to call me that."

"Too bad, Gerard isn't around to say it so now I get to." Pete said with a smile, but Frank heard the sympathy in his voice when he said Gerard's name. He had probably seen Frank winced at the mention of Gerard. 

“Too bad.” Frank echoed sadly.

"Who is it?" Brendon yelled from inside the room. 

"The UN." Pete replied, shouting into the room through the door. "We're here to discuss making your forehead its own country."

"I will fuck you up Wentz."

"Awww, you’re so sweet." Pete said, blowing a kiss to Brendon through the door. "Anyways, I'm here to get the textbook." 

“The textbook.”

“Yeah the physics one.”

“Physics.”

“That’s what I said. Anyways, Gerard need it, so I’m here to get it.”

“Gerard.” Frank blankly repeated the name.

“Brendon, what’s wrong with Frank?” Pete asked with a sigh.

“Wrong?” Brendon said and Frank could hear his confusion. “There’s nothing wrong with him.”

“Then why is he only talking in one word sentences?”

“Oh, that.” Brendon said, nodding his head, understanding Pete’s question. “Yeah, he’s been doing that since like, Saturday."

Pete looked at Frank sharply. “Saturday?” he asked Brendon for clarification.

“Why?” Brendon said curiously.

“Frank, you’ve been fucking moping around since Saturday?” Pete was addressing Frank now and his tone was not a happy one. “Saturday?!?”

“What happened on Saturday?” Brendon got up from his bed and ambled over to the doorway, standing behind Frank.

“You didn’t even tell Brendon?” Pete said incredulously. 

“Tell me what? Frank? What didn’t you tell me? Did you fucking eat my pizza rolls again? Because I’ve told you, those thing are fucking mine and-”

“Gerard told Frank he loved him and then left when Frank hesitated.” Pete said brusquely. 

Frank began to protest but was cut off by Brendon. 

"So that's why you were asleep behind the door?" Brendon asked, throughly confused. 

"You were asleep behind a door?" Pete pulled a face.

"I wanted to-" Frank began but Pete talked over him. 

"Frank let Gerard run away after Gerard told him he loved him. Gerard was pretty drunk, but still." Pete said. "And Frank didn't immediately respond to Gerard's statement." Pete continued talking to Brendon, prompting what was probably the jaw drop of the century from Brendon.

“You did WHAT? You hesitated? Did you run after him? Tell me you ran after him.” Brendon dropped his head into his hands, leaning on the door frame and shaking his head in disappointment. “Frank, you didn’t run after him did you?”

“Nope, and Gerard’s been a fucking mess since.” Pete confirmed, then covered his mouth with his hand, eyes wide. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.” he mumbled.  
“A mess?” Frank whispered.

“Uh, I need the textbook.” Pete said hastily and Brendon rushed to get it, shoving Frank out of the way and thrusting the book into Pete’s outstretched arms. Pete accepted it and hurried away, glancing over his shoulder to look at the shell-shocked Frank.

Gerard was a mess?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things will get better for Frank and Gerard, I promise. Happy St. Patrick's Day and happy new twenty one pilots song day. Comments are always welcome.


	9. Making Up And Making Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it took a while, apologies but here's the chapter. Hope it makes up for the wait.

“You’ve fucked up big time Frank.” Patrick’s voice said from through the phone.

"I know I messed up, Patrick. Okay? I know." Frank sighed. He was sitting in his room on the bed. Patrick called him about 15 minutes ago and he was still yelling at Frank. "I just-"

"Do you know where Gerard is, Frank?" came the tinny, angry reply through the phone.

"No," Frank replied forlornly, dropped his head into his hands as he slumped over. "Gerard has been avoiding me since then."

Patrick sighed. "Well, I have no idea where he is either, Frank. I haven't seen him since your fall out."

"FALL OUT?!?" Frank replied incredulously. "Patrick, he kissed me when he was so drunk he couldn't remember where he lived. He was making sheep noises. I was not about to take advantage of my friend when he was so intoxicated that he could barely walk!"

Frank heard Patrick sigh through the phone. "Frank, the last time I saw Gerard was when he stumbled home that night. Frank, he was hysterical."

Frank sucked in a breath. "Hysterical?" he whispered.

"What did you expect Frank? The guy told you he loved you and you froze up."

"I... I didn't-"

"Yes you did Frank." Patrick's exasperated voice said. "You broke Gerard Way."

"Fuck." Frank said, picking his head up out of his hands. "Fuck."

"Finally." Patrick exclaimed. "He figured it out."

"Oh God, Patrick. What can I do? I can't just let him-"

"Fix this Frank. 'Cause there's no way Gerard is going to fix it for you."

"I don't expect him to. I was an idiot and I let him leave." Frank cried out. "I've watched enough dumb romance movies to know that you don't let the person who just told you they love you run away."

"And yet here you are," Patrick observed dryly, "crying to me because you let him run."

"You called me, Patrick."

"Minor detail." Patrick said dismissively. "The point is, you let him get away."

"This isn't a fucking Katy Perry song, Patrick." Frank griped. "I'm not some angsty teen who lost a lover, I'm a sad college student to lost a best friend."

"A best friend who wants to be your lover."

"I am going to shoot you in the face."

Frank could practically hear Patrick flipping him off. "Don't really care, Frank. Yeah, it's such a shame to lose a face this wonderful but-"

"Pete is a bad influence on you Trick. I'm banning you from seeing him anymore."

"Yeah okay mom." Patrick snorted. "Anyways, this conversation is about how you messed up and not about my relationship with Pete."

Frank sighed into the phone. "What do you want me to do Patrick? Gerard is avoiding me like I have the fucking plague or something, it's not like I can just pop over to his dorm room and say "Hey sorry I was an asshole but I may actually kinda like you and I'm sorry that I'm a jackass please forgive me?" 'cause there's no way in hell that's going to work."

Patrick snickered from the other end of the phone. "You like Gerard."

"Shut up, I never said that."

"You just did."

Frank dropped his head back in his hands. "Just tell me what to do to fix this."

"Do what you think is right." Patrick said wisely.

"Thanks Socrates but no thanks. Your advice sucks." Frank scowled. Patrick just laughed. "I don't know how to fix this." Frank ran the hand that was holding his head through his hair, fingers tangling in the dark strands.

"I'm sorry Frank, but I don't know what to tell your this is something you have to do on your own."

Frank scowled.

Patrick hung up and Frank did the same, clenching the phone in his right fist. Frank stood up and crossed to his desk, looking down at it and at the textbook that was still sitting there. Pete had returned it on Wednesday. The thing was battered and the cover was slightly off color and Frank swore that when he opened the book, it felt sad. The book itself felt like it was emanating sadness.

Frank stared at the flimsy textbook pages. The book was open again. Page 182 stared up at him, the little graphite markings on it mocking Frank.

"Keep studying you idiot." Frank muttered to himself. Suddenly angry, Frank slammed the textbook shut, hiding the page from view. He picked up the textbook and flung it at the floor, watching as it tumbled down and landed open face down on the floor, fages crunching and wrinkling. His phone followed, flung across the room and landing on the bed where it sank into the blankets, disappearing.

Frank whirled around kicked the wall, his toes cracking. He felt like he may have broken his foot but he didn't care. Collapsing into the best, he buried his head in his pillow and screamed until his throat was raw and he felt like his vocal cords had been ripped out. It hurt, but not as much as losing Gerard did. Frank pulled the pillow out from under his face and cradles it against his stomach, turning on his side and staring blankly at the wall. There was a small gray mark on the dull white paint and Frank fixed his gaze on it, oddly transfixed by it. His foot was throbbing and His throat was sore and all Frank wanted to do was go to sleep.

Then Frank thought of Gerard. He thought of what Pete has said. What Patrick has said.

"Gerard is a mess." Frank murmured into the empty room, talking to the dark spot on the wall. His voice was scratchy and generally sounded like shit to his own ears. "He's a mess and it's my fault."

Frank pulled his eyes away from the mark on the wall and rolled over, looking towards the door. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, and looked around, eyes falling once again on the textbook crumpled on the floor. Frank found himself getting annoyed again. Stupid textbook and it's dumb pages and cover and that stupid note in it from a guy that wouldn't even look at Frank, let alone talk to him.

Standing up, Frank walked over to the textbook and picked it up, smoothing out the pages and murmuring little apologies. Frank hated being mean to books. It was something stupid, something that was a little weird but he still felt bad. The book had a story to tell and, whether he liked it or not, the book deserved a chance to tell the story.

Frank pressed the last few pages back into place and went to the desk, placing the book down on the surface. He turned to go sit back down in bed when he paused, looking down at the floor.

There was a little post-it note there. The bright yellow paper was folded in half and crumpled, like someone had crunched it in a fist before dropping it there. But Frank was sure that it hadn't been dropped. Brendon was oddly particular about his post-its and he refused to buy neon colored ones, claiming they distracted from the words on them. At the time, Frank had simply rolled his eyes and walked away.

Now, Frank stooped down and picked out the out of place paper, unfolding it and pressing out the wrinkles in order to read it.

The paper crumpled up again into a tiny ball. The neon paper was smashed in Frank's fist and dropped to the floor. Then, Frank stood up and swayed slightly in his feet.

Frank kicked the wall again. Hard. With the same foot. He then proceeded to whimper like a five year old.

Crossing to the door, Frank yanked it open and stormed out into the hallway, teetering on one foot as his other one throbbed painfully from its collision with the wall.

Fuck this. Fuck emotions. Fuck the world. Fuck Gerard and his stupid face and his stupid hair and his stupid laugh and those stupid skinny jeans that Gerard should NOT be allowed to wear because they made his ass look like sin and especially that stupid note that said nothing that Frank didn't already know but hurt twice as much compared to the first time he had heard it. The note, that God awful note, bore nothing but a scribble in Gerard's handwriting that was barely legible. But Frank didn't need to read it too closely to figure out what it said. It wasn't fair. Gerard couldn't just dump something on him like that and then leave a fucking post-it note that said "I love him" and expect Frank not to freak out because Frank was most definitely freaking out. He was freaking out and he was not okay and he loved Gerard right back and he had no fucking idea what to-

Wait. Frank froze, his internal monologue freezing then rewinding to a few seconds ago, analyzing what he was thinking and re-analysing and re-re-analyzing and then stopping because thinking about it wasn't going to change it.

"Oh my god." Frank realized. "I think I love Gerard." Frank said aloud into the quiet hall.

"Congratulations," someone called from an open door down the hall. "You're in love, now go tell them and let everyone carry on with their lives."

"Asshole." Frank shouted back, but he was grinning like an idiot.

\------------------------------------------------------

Frank tried. He really did. He tried so hard to find Gerard and make thing right. He called Patrick at odd times to see if Gerard was at their dorm. He tracked down Pete and followed him to the dining hall one afternoon, hoping beyond hope that Gerard would maybe show up. Frank went as far and to try to slip into Patrick's dorm room one night to try and catch Gerard.

That's where Patrick put his foot down. He had caught Frank falling past the window looking into his and Gerard's shared room. Frank had been trying to peer in like one of those CSI agents in a crime show but he somehow managed to lose his balance and fall flat on his face, startling Partick and leading to in intervention for Frank's "creepy stalker behavior" as Patrick put it.

So Frank backed off. He backed off for a couple days which turned into a few days and then turned into a week then a week and a half and soon it was approaching two weeks and Gerard was still hiding from Frank. Pete would drop by occasionally and pick up the textbook but that's all Frank heard from Gerard. Sure, he was still in the physics class but Gerard had shifted his seat to one of the empty ones near the back of the class. He was always the last one in the room and the first out. There was no way that Frank could talk to him.

But two weeks was enough. Frank was sick of Gerard moping around and Pete acting like a spooked horse whenever he showed up for the textbook, like Frank would jump him and demand to be taken to Gerard.

And so Frank took it upon himself to step up and find Gerard. That was the day that Pete's fears came true. Frank cornered him and managed to get a time when Gerard would be in the dorm room out of Pete. Frank hurriedly thanked the other boy, then swore to steal his dog if Pete told Gerard that Frank had found out where he would be. Pete, who took Hemingway's safety maybe a little too serious, readily agreed and left, clutching the textbook.

And so here Frank was, standing outside room 136 in the Morningside Housing complex at 10:39 on a Friday night during a thunderstorm. He was soaking wet and was shivering a little, hair plastered to his face and slowly soaking through his already drenched t-shirt. Frank had stupidly left any form of protection against the elements in his dorm room. So here he was, dripping water from his jeans onto the floor outside of Gerard's room, hoping that the idiot inside would let him in long enough to talk.

Gritting his teeth, Frank reached out one shaking hand and knocked on the door.

At first there was no reply and Frank's hope fell, dashing themselves against the sad acceptance of never seeing Gerard again. He raised his hand to knock again but was stopped when a voice came through the door.

"Fuck off," came the mumbled reply. "Not taking any visitors or offers of any kind. I don't need help finding Jesus, thank you."

Frank smiled faintly, but ignored Gerard's banter, instead knocking again.

"Patrick is not here and you are annoying his roommate. Leave." Gerard grouched from inside.

Frank knocked again.

"FOR FUCKS SAKE!" Gerard exclaimed. Something in the room went thump and Frank heard Gerard curse loudly. "ARE YOU-" Gerard started, wrenching open the door and hopping on on foot as he looked up from his apparently injured foot into Frank's eyes.

"Fuck"

Gerard moved to shut the door but Frank shoved his foot in the doorframe.

"Gerard," he started, but Frank couldn't finish his sentence. He was lost for words. Put simply, Gerard looked like crap. His hair was unwashed, well, more unwashed than usual and it hung around his face in greasy strands. His eyes were ringed by dark circles, his shirt dirty and hanging loosely on his shoulders.

"Gerard," Frank said again.

"Yes, that's my name." Gerard said dully. "What do you want Frank?"

"Want?" Frank asked softly. "Want?"

"You're lucky you're pretty Frank, or else you'd be out of luck for dates." Gerard sighed.

"Dates?"

"Frank, if you were any slower, I swear to God-."

"Excuse me?" Frank said indignantly. "I am not slow!"

Gerard sighed. "What do you want Frank?" He repeated.

"I want to talk!" Frank exclaimed loudly. "It's been weeks, Gerard, WEEKS, and you've been avoiding me like your life depended on it."

"Stop shouting," Gerard yelled at him. Frank raised an eyebrow. "Shut the fuck up Frank. You have no idea how stupid I feel okay? I fucking forced myself on you and I was drunk, it was stupid. I don't want to think about it anymore except I CAN'T stop because you're always around. Patrick comes back from wherever the hell he goes and he's talking about you and how you're asking about me and then he looks at me and you can smell the guilt coming off him." Gerard says, nearly shouting and getting in Frank's face. "Do you actually think I want to see you right now? You're such an ass Frank, do you even care that I fucking like you? Or did you break the last guy who went after you too?"

Frank stared. Then he did the only think he could think of. He shoved Gerard. Hard. Putting both hands up, he pushed Gerard by the chest back into his room.

Gerard stumbled and quickly regained his balance, looking up to glare at Frank.

They stood there, face to face, chest to chest, both breathing hard. Gerard’s face was flushed and he was using his extra few inches in height to his advantage, looming over Frank as best he could. Frank was in no way intimidated, glaring right back up at Gerard.

“You fucking fuck face.” Gerard seethed. “You complete and utter asshole. Don’t you fucking dare shove me. Don’t even breath in my direction. I fucking told you I don’t want to see you. I asked you to leave and what do you do? You fucking shove me?!” Gerard hissed at Frank, speaking from behind clenched teeth, voice dangerously low.

“Asked me to leave?” Frank said in a tense voice. “Asked me to leave?” he repeated, voice getting louder as the sentence progressed. “Asked me to- No Gerard, you did not ask me to leave, you said you didn’t want to talk to me. But you know what? Fuck you and what you want. I went weeks, WEEKS, without talking to you. I sat around and waited for you to grow up and come to be. I watched you mope around in Physics. I put up with you sending Pete to be your fucking messenger and get textbooks from me. I have waited so fuvking long, I was patient, I was giving you space but I am sick of it, okay? You can’t just fucking avoid me for the rest of your fucking life because you did something that you’re embarrassed about!” Frank said, voice now reaching shouting volume.

“Embarrassed?” Gerard said, this time actually hitting screeching levels. “Fuck off Frank, embarrassed doesn’t even begin to cover it. I was fucking drunk out of my mind and I fucking jumped on you and tried to shove my tongue down your throat. Embarrassed is just the tip of the motherfucking iceberg.” Gerard yelled. Frank had a brief, fleeting thought about the other people in the dorm’s housing unit. They were no doubt were listening in like Gerard and Frank’s argument was the latest soap opera or something. “I fucking LIKE you Frank, okay? I like you and I fucked it all up. I’m a fucking idiot and I didn’t want to tell you because I’m a fucking coward who would rather sit and stew in his own emotions and wallow in self pity rather than admit that I think you’re really fucking hot and funny. Don’t fucking assume you know what I’m feeling.” Gerard finished, body shaking slightly.

“Gerard, I don’t give a flying fuck that-”

“Shut the fuck up Frank. You-”

“You shut up!” Frank fired back

“Fucking make me!” Gerard screeched.

Frank stared at Gerard, looking into his face, pink with anger, eyes flashing dangerously. Frank just stared at him and Gerard stared right back, eyes meeting, sparks of anger flying, red-hot and sharp.

And then Frank was launching himself at Gerard and was kissing him and Gerard was gasping in surprise, sucking in a breath before Frank’s lips crashed against his. Gerard sort of froze and Frank pushed closer to him, wrapping an arm around his back and tugging him closer, and all of a sudden Gerard was moving, reaching up and gripping Frank’s hair with one hand, cupping his neck and jaw with the other and he was kissing back, mouth pressing against Frank’s, hard and soft all at once. Frank kept frantically kissing him and they broke apart for a moment, panting hard.

Gerard grinned and moved back in to kiss Frank again. One second Frank was standing kissing Gerard in the entryway to his room and the next Frank was up against the wall and Gerard was close, so fucking close, and his mouth was drifting away from his mouth and down Frank’s neck and jawbone, peppering it with kisses. Frank gasped quietly when Gerard latched onto his throat, kissing and licking and doing something with his mouth that was downright fantastic. Frank let out a small moan and- BANG. The door to Gerard’s dorm room opened and something hit the floor and Gerard jumped away from Frank, leaving him still pressed up against the wall.

“Patrick!” Gerard yelped and Frank turned his attention to the door, eyes coming to rest on a person who was indeed Patrick. “Hi.” Gerard said in an equally high-pitched tone. “I- uh…”

Patrick said nothing, his eyes wide to the point of comical and Frank nearly giggled, he looked so ridiculous.

“Hi Gerard. Nice to see you again.” Patrick said faintly. “I see you’ve, uh, made out- I mean, up. Made up.” he stammered. “Nice to see you too Frank… Where is your shirt?” Patrick said.

“Huh?” Frank looked down and saw that his shirt was indeed missing. “It’s somewhere around here.” he said, trailing off as he looked around the floor of the room, searching for his shirt. When had he even lost it?

Patrick stooped down to pick up a rather large book, which was probably what he had dropped when he first came in. “I was actually going to study here, but I’m probably gonna go now.” Patrick looked slightly disturbed as he turned stiffly and walked out of the room.

Frank grinned as he left. “Don’t look so horrified, Trick. We all you and Pete have banged in this room, Gerard and I can’t do much more to defile it.”

Gerard and Frank saw Patrick scowl at them as he shut the door behind him. It had been closed for only a few seconds when it abruptly opened again and Patrick poked his head back in, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“Don’t get any ideas.” he said, then withdrew his head and shut the door again.

“Why were his eyes shut?” Frank wondered aloud.

“To protect his non-existant innocence.” Gerard said deadpan. Frank broke down laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They fucking kissed. I hope you're happy. This is far from over so stay tuned for more soon. Comment, you know you want to *evil laugh*


	10. hippopotomonsterphadalio- oh fuck it

“Hey Frank?”

“Hey Gerard?”

“What are we?”

“Humans, now finish studying.”

\------------------------------------------------------

“Hey Frank?”

“Gerard?”

“But seriously, are we dating or something?”

“Do you want to be dating?” Frank asked.

“Well, yeah.”

“Okay, then we’re dating.”

“Just like that?” Gerard said hopefully.

“Just like that.” Frank assured him. Gerard hummed in satisfaction and squirmed closer to Frank to look over his shoulder at his physics notes. 

\------------------------------------------------------

“Hey Frank?”

“Mmmm?”

“You’re really fucking cute.” Gerard whispered in Frank’s ear when he leaned in, his breath hot on Frank’s skin

“And you’re really fucking cheesy, can we finish studying now?” Frank said, rolling his eyes at the dark haired mess but grinning fondly at him. 

“Studying is for losers.” Gerard proclaimed, stretching out the last word. He leaned away from Frank, who was seated cross-legged on the bed with his English notes balanced  
on his knees. With a pout on his face, Gerard proceeded to slither down off the bed onto the floor like a sort of ungraceful snake, where he rolled onto his back, reclining on the floor next to Frank’s bed.

Gerard was an art major but he needed a bunch of different requirements to graduate, hence the physics class. Said class was Gerard’s least favorite, made obvious by his constant whining about the work and the course itself to a patient Frank. The most recent complaint was directed at Mr. Fitzer’s project assignment and how it was too vague to allow Gerard to successfully complete it. When Frank pointed out that Gerard had slept through the entire class when the project had been assigned, Gerard just waved his hand dismissively and told Frank that sleeping was not the issue here, although in Frank’s opinion it was totally the issue here. 

“Hey Fraaaaaank?” came Gerard’s warbling voice from under the bed. Frank rolled his eyes.

“Geraaaaaard.” he mocked, only half paying attention. 

“Fraaaaaaaank” Gerard said again, his voice somewhat muffled. Frank sighed and shifted his noted off his lap, shuffling to the edge of the bed and peering over at Gerard. Or at least, what he could see of Gerard. He had almost fully rolled under the bed and all Frank could see was one pale arm.

“The fuck are you doing?” Frank asked him. Gerard moaned something that Frank couldn’t decipher but made him roll his eyes at Gerard’s hopelessness. He was going to get nowhere on this project if he stayed under the bed. Frank seized his arm and tried to drag him out from under the piece of furniture. Gerard didn’t budge. Frank tugged a bit harder. Gerard refused to move. 

“Gee.” Frank whined. Gerard made some weird animalistic noise from under the bed to show that he had heard Frank. “You need to work come on you lazy-”

“Why can’t I be like, a butterfly or something. They don’t have to do shit, I want to be a butterfly.” Gerard griped from under the bed.

“Butterflies migrate, Gerard. They fly really far and shit like that, you don’t want to be a butterfly, that means physical activity.” Frank told him.

“Then I want to be something that doesn’t move. What doesn’t move Frank?”

“You.” Frank muttered. Gerard kicked him from under the bed. “Ow, watch it! Fine, something that doesn’t move,” Frank scowled at the offending foot, which was still sticking out from the bed a little. Frank glanced around his dorm room. “Uh, bananas don’t move.”

“I would like to be a banana. Lots of potassium, right? Nice and healthy. I’m a banana.”

“Gerard, you’re not a banana. However, humans do share fifty to sixty percent of their DNA with bananas so youre halfway there.

“Nice.” came Gerard’s reply from under the bed. “Thanks for this mostly useless fact Frank.”

“You can thank Brendon, he’s the one who figured that one out. Dunno where he gets the facts from though.” Frank pondered this for a while. He slowly stood up and returned to the bed, shuffling around and getting situated before picking up his notes and squinting at the page again. Gerard suddenly started banging on the bottom of Frank’s bed. 

“What!” Frank cried out in exasperation.

“Do you mean to tell me that some people are ten percent more banana than others!?” Gerard screeched.

Frank leaned his head back and banged it on the wall repeatedly.

\------------------------------------------------------

"Yeah, well I have no idea which fucking genius came up with the brilliant idea of calling the fear of long words hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia” Brendon was griping to Ryan when Frank walked into their dorm room. He had been out for a walk after his and Gerard’s failed study session. After walking Gerard back to his dorm room, Frank had stopped for a cup of coffee and had wandered around the campus until he got bored and all the coffee was gone. 

“At least you can say the word!” Ryan complained. “If I have to struggle to pronounce the stupid hippo word one more time I swear I’m gonna-” Ryan made a violent gesture that looked to Frank like a combination of ripping and strangulation. Frank went pale.

“Hip-oh-pot-oh-mun-stro-ses-kwip-ped-ahl-ee-o-pho-bee-a” Brendon said slowly, making Ryan glare at him.

“Do you know how many syllables are in hippopotomonsterphadalio- OH FUCK IT! There are fifteen syllables in the hippo word okay, fifteen. There is something very wrong with a word that has fifteen syllables.” Ryan exclaimed, jumping up off the bed where he was sitting next to Brendon. “Why the fuck am I taking this psych class?”

“Cause you said you like psych.” Brendon soothed. “Come here.” He said and Ryan sheepishly walked back to Brendon and sat back down next to him, leaning in a bit as they sat together looking at a psychology textbook. 

Frank cleared his throat.

Brendon jumped, looking up at Frank. “Oh hey there shorty, what’s up?”

"Call me shorty one more time and you will find yourself nicely acquainted my foot cause its gonna go right up your fucking ass.

"Kinky."

"Shut your face"

“You used to be so nice and sweet Frank what happened?” Brendon cooed. Frank hit him. “So violent.”

“You deserved it.” Frank said dismissively. “What are you guys doing?”

“Studying psych.” Brendon said.

“Yes, because I love dying and death.” said Ryan. 

“You obviously dont have Thanatophobia.” Brendon said.

“Fear of death?” Ryan asked.

“Yes! One point to Ryan.” Brendon said, pecking Ryan on the cheek, who grinned.

Frank smiled. “How’s the studying going then?”

“It’s not that bad, Ryan just can’t pronounce half of the phobias.” Brendon explained to Frank, who nodded sympathetically. 

“Excuse me but there is no reason for the phobia of long words to have thirty six letters. How is that supposed to make it easy for people who have that phobia. What if they’re asked, ‘Hey, got any phobias?’ because then they gotta say ‘Yeah, it’s a really long word that means fear of long words and I get nervous just thinking about this fucking long word that I got a phobia of’ and what if a doctor is like ‘Hey you’ve got hippopotomonster-long-word-i-don’t-give-a-fuck-how-to-say-it-phobia’ this word is a mess, okay Brendon. The word is a complete mess.” Ryan said, finishing his rant with a flourish.

“Wow.” Frank said. “I’ve never seen someone get so worked up about something. I applaud you.”

“Don’t encourage him.” Brendon muttered.

“Its got more letters than supercalifragilisticexpialidocious so excuse me if I want to rant.” Ryan defended. 

“You can say that but you can’t say hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia?” Brendon wondered.

“Yes because supercalifragilisticexpialidocious has a song from Mary Poppins and hippo-whatever has no song.” Ryan pouted.

“Then write a song for hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia.” Brendon said distractedly. Ryan pondered this for a moment and then he got up and walked over to Brendon’s guitar at the foot of his bed, Frank watching him go from the edge of his bed where he was perched. 

“Ryan?” Brendon said when he realized that his boyfriend had left his side. “Ryan?” He looked up. “Ryan!” he said, louder this time when he saw that the boy in question had picked up the guitar and had started strumming it. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Writing a hippo-whatever-phobia song, what does it look like?” Ryan replied, not looking up from picking out chords. Brendon sighed. 

“And how are you going to sing it if you can’t even say it?” he asked Ryan.

“I’m not gonna be the one singing, you are.” Ryan said.

“Me?” Brendon squawked.

“And that’s my cue to leave.” Frank said hurriedly. He jumped up and darted out of the room, leaving Brendon to fend of Ryan’s attempts to make him sing a song about  
phobias. 

Once outside of the dorm, Frank stopped and doubled over laughing. Brendon was probably making up a stupid phobia song right now and Ryan would be happily strumming the guitar and Brendon’s face would probably be reflecting whatever internal pain the phobia song was causing him. Frank snickered at the thought. 

Frank’s phone suddenly rang, surprising him. He fished it ot of his pocket and looked at the caller ID. It was Gerard. 

“Hello?” he said, answering the call. 

“Hey Frankie.” Gerard said. “What’s up?”

“Not much, Brendon is singing a song about phobias.”

“What?” Frank could practically feel Gerard’s confusion. 

“Nevermind. Why did you call?”

“Oh right,” Gerard said. “My brother is coming for spring break and I was wondering if you were going to be around then? ‘Cause you could meet him then or something and I know spring break isn’t really that close but I just wanted to know if you were going to be around.”

“Yeah, I’m not planning on going anywhere, my mom’s going to be out of the country and I wasn’t planning on going home so that sounds cool. I’d love to meet your brother.”

“Really? That’s awesome.” Gerard said. “N-not that you’re not seeing your mom ‘cause she’s away; that kinda sucks, but that you can meet Mikey.” 

Frank laughed. “What about you, where’s your family going to be?”

“They’re going to visit some great aunt or uncle of mine that I’ve never met and Mikey didn’t want to go so he’s coming here.”

“That’s cool.”

“No, it’s really not. It’s just a stubborn little brother who doesn’t like road trips to visit relatives he doesn’t know.” Gerard replied. Frank grinned at that. 

“Did you get any more studying done when a left you at your dorm?” Frank asked Gerard. There was silence, broken only by a periodic ‘uhhh’ from Gerard. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“It’s not like I didn’t want to,” Gerard protested. “It’s just that, I didn’t want to.” he said haltingly. Frank laughed. 

“Where are you now?” he asked. 

“Right next to you.” came the reply, both from the phone and from beside Frank, who jumped violently and smacked Gerard multiple times while he howled with laughter.

“It isn’t funny!” Frank snapped, scowling at Gerard, who has actual tears rolling down his face from laughing so hard. 

“Are you kidding? That was hilarious!” Gerard wheezed. “Come on, I wanna hear Brendon’s phobia song.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a very bad person. It's taken me three months to update this. I swear I would have had it done a week or two ago but some peasant sneezed on me and now I've got the flu in July. I'm very proud of myself. Anyways feel free to hit me with a chair for procrastinating this so much. Comment please?


	11. UPDATE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi.... its been forever and I am a bad writer apparently.

HELLO KIDDOS

it me  
im back  
for now I guess  
but also this fic has been on hiatus forever and I've gotten, like, a surge of motivation so I am back to write again.

Some of you have this bookmarked and will get a notification that I've updated, sorry if its disappointing that theres no actual content but thats just how it be in this bitch of a world. 

Time to cut to the chase, I've rambled long enough. 

So I'm rewriting this fic. I've read it over, looked at my old drafts, reread my original content storyline that I threw together before starting this like 2 years ago(???) and I'm rewriting it starting at chapter 1. There will be new content. There will be an improved plot line. It will be a NEW plot line. You gotta read the new plot line cause I'm a slut for new readers. The new uploads will (hopefully) begin by the end of the week(???) Once again, I am bad with scheduling. 

It will still be Frank and Gerard against the world. Probably. jk it will be. But I am a much better writer now and it would be a grade A sin to leave this the way it is. So I'm rewriting. The old crap will be deleted to make room for the new crap so starting in like a week this will be gone and chapter 1 will be re-uploaded, sorry for any sadness if you liked the original version but thats how it be.

If y'all would prefer, I'll start the same one under a different title so you can read the old crap but thats only if you REALLY want to keep reading the original stuff. Idk man. Do people even read frerard anymore? idk man. If you do, kudos to you. This fic is dedicated to you. A+ job believing in the love. 

Thanks for reading this crap, now its time for me to write new crap. 

See ya in a week probably.


End file.
